


Inconstant Moon

by Arionrhod



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 63,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod
Summary: The year is 1999. The war with Voldemort has been over for a year, and Remus Lupin has spent that time traveling around the world, recovering from the trauma and coming to grips with his life. A summons from Albus Dumbledore brings him back to Hogwarts to once against take up a position as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. An offer he happily accepts, for it is time for him to deal with one of the last outstanding issues from his past - his attraction to Severus Snape.As Remus tries to determine if there is any hope of a relationship between he and Severus -- a situation that appears alternately hopeless and full of promise -- Remus is left in doubt as to where exactly where Severus' affections truly lie.Normally Remus wouldn't doubt his ability to hold his own, either in a battle of wits or determination, especially since it seems Severus is responding... if it weren't for the fact that his rival is none other than Severus' apprentice, Draco Malfoy. Just how far would Draco go in order to win Severus for himself? Would Draco actually be willing to kill?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for NanoWriMo in November 2004. As a result, it is obviously an alternative reality as of that time. It will take me a couple of days to get the whole thing posted because it's looooong. I hope you enjoy!

Remus Lupin often thought that his life was a study in circles.

His life seemed to move in circles, at any rate, with ups and downs, peaks and valleys along the way, but always eventually leading him precisely, inevitably back to where he had begun. He had started out as a child with very few friends because of his curse, then had gone to Hogwarts and, miraculously, gained friendship in full measure. After nine happy years, however, he was left ripped asunder, devastated, and - once more - without companionship. A circle of sorrow.

The same cycle was true of his various attempts to support himself throughout his adult life. Each new job was held for some variable but usually brief time, until his condition was discovered or his absences due to illness caused him to once more enter the ranks of the unemployed. He had done so many different types of work over the years that he could no longer recall them all, could no longer remember how many different places he had labored at nor how many different, nameless faces had given him the sack, with expressions varying from disgust to vague pity. For an intelligent man who wanted desperately to be self-sufficient, who wanted to be accepted on the basis of what he could do, rather than what he was, it was both frustrating and extremely disheartening; a circle of humiliation.

Of lovers Remus had had relatively few, especially for a single man of his age who was not unattractive and extremely well read. His penurious circumstances had something to do with it, certainly, but so did his own selectivity in his partners. It wasn't just that he was gay, but that he felt honor-bound to reveal his lycanthropy before becoming intimate with someone, not wishing to face the horror of trying to explain after the fact that he was a Dark Creature to someone who might be interested in developing a longer term relationship with him. His average, he figured, was about fifty percent, between those who retained a desire to have sex with him after finding out that he was a werewolf and those who were completely repulsed. Of course even getting to the point to where he would confess his condition to a potential partner was somewhat problematic; therefore he was denied not only companionship, but the physical release that most humans took for granted as a normal, natural part of their lives. A circle of intense loneliness.

All of these dizzying repetitions, however, revolved in a circle all their own, whose center was a great, ghostly orb in the sky; a fickle, inescapable mistress who owned his soul as she owned his body once every month. Ever changing in her appearance and yet always there, always present, always haunting him and hunting him no matter how fast he ran or how hard he tried to hide.

Remus could remember a time when he had been quite small, sitting with his parents on the shores of a quiet, secluded lake, looking out across the still expanse of night-dark water and watching the full moon rise in silvery splendor, reflected double in the mirror of the water below. The soft light had seemed magical, fascinating, enchanting, making him reach up with one small, childish hand as though he could capture the radiant orb in his fist, pull it down from the sky and put it in his pocket like a vast, secret treasure. Of course that had been nothing but a silly, childish whimsy, an innocent dream from a time in his life before the silver orb came to symbolize not magic, but death, denial, and despair.

After all these years Remus knew the phases of it like the beating of his own heart, like the pulsing of his blood; could feel it as it rose, no matter what time of the day or night, no matter the season or the weather or the phase of her inconstant face. If he were alone in the silent woods, he could close his eyes and point unerringly to where the distant globe dwelt in the sky, like a compass finding north, drawn inexorably to it. His bane, his torment, his curse... the cold, pale goddess that ruled his life in an unchanging rhythm.

Were he a different man, a man who took less joy in living, or one who found less wonder in the rest of the world and its people, Remus would find it so incredibly easy to do what so many of his kind did - end their lives, removing the torment which plagued them, unable to live with the beast they became, with the hate and suspicion of the world of Men and the world of Wizards. But those people, though misguided, were more noble - or so he had always thought - than the ones who gave in to the savagery, let it control them, dominate them; used it as an excuse to be as brutal the rest of the time as they were when the pale goddess pulled the beast forth from their bodies and set it free to ravage under Her light.

Then there were the few like himself, who viewed their lycanthropy as a disease, a curse, a torment... but did not see it as the end of their lives. It was merely something to be lived with, to be dealt with when at hand and ignored - as best as possible - the rest of the time. It was what they became, but not who they were, not inside where it truly mattered, not in their hearts and minds and souls. But it still meant a separation, a loneliness from which he had known respite so rarely that he felt he could count the occasions on the fingers of one hand, and have fingers left over.

It was not surprising, of course, that Remus' boggart took the form of the moon. What person would not fear a cold, heartless force of nature which wracked their body with pain, stripped them of their humanity, and set free horrific, primal urges which drove them to maim and kill? The moon that haunted his days and made his nights restless, filling them with agonizing dreams in which he hurt those around him, the people that he loved. Was it any wonder that his inner demons were spawned by the external power which drove him, changed him, destroyed and remade him every twenty-nine days in a rhythm as inescapable as the tides or the change of seasons? Remus decided that any lycanthrope who didn't fear the moon as he did must be evil indeed. Evil, or at least completely insane.

The single thing which made his curse at once bearable and yet at the same time completely maddening was its predictability, the cycle as regular it was undeniable, as foreseeable as it was compulsory. Remus knew to the minute when the Change would begin, knew the warning signs with a familiarity that bred not contempt but resignation. The Wolfsbane potion - when he could get it - allowed him to keep his mind, but it did nothing to take away the agony of his transformation. Still he would rather have it than go without it, not so much because it allowed him to retain his awareness - although that certainly was preferable to the alternative - but because it meant that he wasn't a danger to anyone else.

Not all the circles in his life were bad, certainly: the cycle which had completed with Voldemort's destruction, his final, ultimate destruction at the hands of Harry Potter was certainly worth celebrating. While Voldemort's death could not undo the evils that had been done nor bring back those who had fallen, it did, at least, bring a certain amount of closure to some unresolved issues in Remus' life. A resolution which had been long and painful in the coming to be sure, but welcome nonetheless. A circle finally closed, never to repeat again.

After the Dark Lord's fall, Remus was even the focus of some small, fleeting bit of fame as a hero of the Order of the Phoenix, an unusual circumstance which he found no more comfortable than the notoriety of his curse. Still, the money urged upon him by a "grateful" Ministry - which he privately thought of as hush money to keep him from complaining about the way the Ministry had caused him to suffer in the past, now that he was celebrated as "Harry Potter's Friend, Mentor, and Surrogate Father" - allowed him some small degree of freedom for the first time in his life. He didn't turn it down as he once might have, in a vain show of pride; instead he accepted it with graciousness touched only faintly with irony, donated half of it to a charity for lycanthropy victims, and with the rest he disappeared for an entire year, traveling the world as he had once dreamed of doing. Not in luxury, but at least with the security of knowing where his next meal was coming from and that he could arrange a "safe" location during each full moon. And so he circled the globe as the Moon circled the Earth, seeking answers he knew that he would never find, but searching for them despite knowing he was doomed to failure.

It was on a lazy, hot, humid, day in early June, almost exactly one year after Voldemort's destruction, that Fawkes found him on a white sand beach in Spain, his traveling nearly done and his money nearly spent. It surprised him, naturally, to have his langour suddenly and unexpectedly disrupted, and he looked up from his book with wide eyes as the beautiful Phoenix landed on the sand at his feet, trilling a pleasant greeting and extending a rolled up parchment toward him with one taloned claw.

"Well, hello," he said, smiling as Fawke's inclined his regal head, the noble bird apparently having no problem with playing the role of owl. Remus accepted the scroll gravely, unrolling the thick parchment with a small sense of foreboding. Whatever it contained was obviously from Dumbledore himself, and of some importance, although Remus had had very little contact with anyone in Wizarding England for the last year.

His amber eyes scanned the missive, widening in surprise as the words almost seemed to leap off the page at him, wonderful and yet unbelievable. He read it a second time just to be certain, a small, fierce curl of pleasure spreading through him as the words sank in, giving him a happiness such as he hadn't experienced in a very long time.

_  
_

My Dear Remus --

As Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it is my honor to extend to you an offer of employment in the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, for the upcoming school year. Due to certain new legislation which has been passed by the Ministry of Magic - in no small part due to your exemplary record during the war and the repeated insistence of Harry - your lycanthropy is no longer considered a valid basis upon which to exclude you from appointment to a post for which you are uniquely and overwhelmingly qualified.

I suspect you probably have many questions, mostly having to do with whether the students - and their parents - will accept you, but rest assured that these issues have been addressed. I have a feeling you haven't been keeping up on the news from home, but Harry has made certain that you have received the recognition to which you are entitled for your service to the Order. Not monetary - although I know the Ministry tried to address that aspect for reasons not entirely altruistic - but socially as well. Certainly there are those who always will harbor prejudice against you for your lycanthropy, just as there are those who will always despise the Muggleborn. You might face some opposition, but I feel that you are up to dealing with it. Or at least, I certainly hope that you are.

The staff for the year will remain much as you knew it. Minerva, Filius, Hagrid, Severus, Sinistra and Sybill, as well as the addition of Oliver Wood as our new Quidditch coach as Hooch has a desire to travel much as you have been doing. Much as the outside has changed in a year, Hogwarts remains essentially the same, full of eager young minds who would benefit from your tutelage.

As a side note, I have arranged with Severus for him to provide you with the Wolfsbane potion each month as a side benefit of your employment. (And just so that you are aware, dear boy, he has not expressed any disgruntlement at your appointment this time, so you need not be concerned on that score). In fact, Severus has made some passing mention of enhancements he would like to make to the potion, for which he would need your cooperation. Given that the war is over, I am certain that you two can reach some sort of equitable arrangement between yourselves on the matter, and so I shall leave it in your capable hands.

I have sent this offer letter via Fawkes, as I was quite certain he would be able to locate you without an address; added to the fact that he quite likes you and assured me that you always have the best chocolate, no matter where you happen to be. If you would be so kind please send your reply via him as well, so that I can firm up the teaching schedule for the upcoming year.

Congratulations, my dear boy. You are an excellent teacher, and have a rare and gifted way with children. I look forward greatly to having you on Staff once again.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Looking up from the parchment finally, Remus smiled widely at Fawkes, who seemed to incline his head in amusement at the fierce grin on Remus' face. "I'm going home, Fawkes," Remus murmured, more to himself than to the Phoenix - although he reached into his bag almost absently, pulling out a bar of Belgian Dark and breaking off a piece for his messenger. "It's real. I'm finally going home."

As he spoke the words, Remus realized exactly how true they were. Hogwarts was and always had been the center of yet another great circle in his life, one that twice now had carried him toward someone who meant a great deal to him, someone who was the focus of desire and guilt, affection and frustration, admiration and dismay. Always the circle had carried him away again, frustrated and unfulfilled, and in circumstances that were always painful and regrettable and left him aching the feeling of something special that remained just beyond his grasp. Now it appeared that the circle was beginning again, carrying him back to England, back to Hogwarts. Back once more to the orbit Remus' secret desire, and his ever-unattainable dream. Back to the enigma and enticement that was Severus Snape.

If he were very, very lucky, perhaps the third time would, finally, be the charm.


	2. Full Moon

Full Moon

Evening settled in with a slow, subdued hush, the sun casting its last warm, dying rays through his office, picking out strange, long shadows from commonplace objects. Soon those warm toned beams would be replaced with cold, passionless ones of silver and white, heralding the rise of the first full moon of September.

It was getting closer, Remus could feel it like an itch upon his skin, feeling it coiling in the pit of his stomach like a cold, bitter lump. Slowly adrenalin was released into his system, and his breathing quickened, his heart beginning to race like a mad thing in his chest. His senses were heightening bit by bit, bringing clearly to his still-human nose the scents of the parchment before him, dusty-dry and ticklish, the faint-dead tang of his quill, the acidic tang of the ink he scrawled across the Fourth Year essay of one Anaxamander Stout on the Importance of Memorizing How To Recognize a Vampire.

Rubbing absently at his nose, Remus attempted to ignore the familiar signs, glancing up at the clock on the wall impatiently. His vision was no longer as acute as it had been, even with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. A clock which showed the time as half past seven.

Severus was late.

It wasn't like Severus to be late with the Wolfsbane Potion. Especially not with this, the seventh and most important dose of the regimen, the one immediately preceding moonrise. There were little more than ten minutes until the Change would be upon him, and without that dose Remus would still turn into a snarling, fearsome Monster with a desire to kill. All in all, something that he - and Severus, he would have thought - would have been anxious to avoid.

Still, Remus had taken precautions. His last stint in the school had taught him the importance of contingency plans, and he had gone to some bit of effort to put them in place. True, they hadn't been tested before, seeing as it was mid-September and this was his first transformation since the students had returned to the school. He didn't want to contemplate having to use them, however.

Standing, Remus moved toward the fireplace in his office, intending to Floo-call Severus to find out why there seemed to be a delay. Before he reached the hearth, however, the door to his office flew open and Severus himself strode in, brow lowered and his black eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Damned Dennis Creevey," he snarled without preamble, thrusting out the steaming goblet of Wolfsbane toward Remus. "Following in his brother's footsteps as thorn in my side."

Too grateful for the sight of Severus, and equally as glad to see the potion in his hands, Remus didn't ask questions about the latest complaint Severus had against the youngest Creevey. The acrid stench of the poison in the chalice made him want to gag, and the lupine instincts within him were rebelling strongly at the thought of swallowing the foul stuff. But Remus paid his internal twangs no mind, raising the goblet to his lips and beginning the torture process of choking the contents down.

Severus watched, his lips twisted in annoyance. It was, however, apparently not directed at Remus, as he continued to vent his wrath about the travails of living with students underfoot. "I was leaving the dungeons when the blasted young prat came galloping down the stairs and barreled right into me without looking where he was going. Not that he injured me, mind you - the young whelp is so infernally tiny he merely bounced right off - but he of course had to knock the goblet from my hand in the process, spilling the potion all over myself, the floor, and his own wretched self. I hope that the blisters are a firm reminder for him to look where he is going in the future! But, as a result, after a suitable chastisement and issuing detention, I had to go back to my laboratory to retrieve more of the potion."

Remus' eyes widened as he looked over the rim of the goblet, still determinedly swallowing down the thick, bitter brew. Part of him was the faintest bit amused at the mental picture he conjured up from Severus' words, of the strangely small, waif-like Dennis hurtling pell mell down the stairs and smacking into the tall, thin Potions Master, rebounding backwards like a rubber ball smacked with a stick while potion flew everywhere. But he was also concerned. Wolfsbane potion was toxic on contact with unprotected human skin, not lethal by any means but still capable of inflicting a nasty, painful chemical burn.

With a final spasm of his throat, Remus managed to choke down the dregs, then lowered the chalice with a grimace that was partially from the taste and partially sympathy for what had happened. He glanced quickly down the length of Severus' body, noting the greyish staining on his robes, but realizing with relief that Severus himself appeared more angry than injured.

"You're all right, I take it?" he asked, wincing at the hoarseness of his voice as the potion stung his own throat slightly raw. "How's Dennis?"

Waving a dismissive hand Severus gave an eloquent, long-suffering sigh. "I am uninjured, since the repelling charms I use to keep my hands from coming into direct contact with the potion were still in effect. As for young Master Creevey, he will be fine, superficial burns only." The sneer on Severus' face transformed into a small, not very nice smile. "Of course he is probably in for some bit of embarrassment until his hair grows back from the bald patches the potion caused when it splattered on his head."

Remus wanted to chuckle at the satisfaction in Severus' tone. He was relieved that the boy had not been seriously injured, apparently his pride the greatest victim of the mishap. But he contented himself with a small smile, holding the goblet out. "Thank you, Severus," he said softly, as he had done the previous six times Severus had brought him the potion. "Not to sound rude or ungrateful - believe me, I am extremely grateful to you for brewing the potion and bringing it to me - but moonrise is only minutes away, and you should go."

The satisfied smirk on Severus' pale face was wiped away abruptly, his dark eyes turning wary at once at the reminder of what Remus was to become very soon. Remus winced, feeling like growling in frustration himself as the rather easy mood between them turned abruptly chilly.

Severus had been, as Albus had intimated in his offer of employment, quite civil to Remus since his return. Not friendly, not open, and certainly not chatty, but quietly accepting, shooting Remus none of the glares of contempt with which Remus had had to deal during his first stint of teaching. The dark haired wizard had seemed a little different since the end of the war. As nasty as ever to the students, mind, but less tense and even open occassion seeming almost relaxed when Remus had run across him in the library after hours, or when Severus had brought the Wolfsbane to his office. Severus had never lingered, but instead of acknowledging Remus' quietly offered gratitude with a sneer or a derisive snort, he had actually nodded politely before turning away to leave.

All of that, however, seemed to have flown out the window, and Remus - who had actually been harboring some small thought of asking Severus if he would like to engage in a game of chess some evening, once the full moon had passed - felt his hopes shrivel up and die. Just because Severus had been marginally tolerant since Remus' return didn't mean that Severus had accepted Remus' lycanthropy unconditionally, nor that Severus had ever forgiven Remus for what Sirius had done. Or even for being a werewolf in the first place. With a sinking heart Remus watched his pleasant images of a quiet evening spent drawing Severus out into a real conversation crumble into dust, as one pale, longfingered hand twitched instinctively on the black robes, as Severus made a abortive motion to draw his wand in self defense.

Remus' own smile faded, and he watched as Severus turned on his heel to leave, black robes flaring behind him as he strode for the door. It was an effort not to grind his teeth in response to this abrupt dismissal, but Remus knew it was the instincts of the wolf, the advent of moonrise which was making him feel that way, making his fists clench as his fingers curled into his palms, nails biting crescents into his skin from the effort of holding back, keeping himself from catching up with Severus, taking him by the shoulder, spinning him around and demanding that he not be like that.

Caught up in his own increasing temper - and in his efforts to combat the rapidly increasing surge of adrenalin in his blood that was rising as the more aggressive nature of the wolf came to the fore - Remus didn't notice that Severus' robes had caught on the knob of one door of his bookcase as Severus brushed past it in his rush to leave, causing it to tilt slightly. He did, however, hear the sudden sound of ripping cloth as Severus pulled away, and he glanced up in surprise as he saw the empty grindylow tank atop the tall wooden bookcase suddenly tip over and go hurtling heavily downward. Straight for Severus' head.

"Severus!" Remus managed to growl out a warning as he leapt across his desk in a desperate movement that used every bit of the preternatural speed of his Curse. He pushed Severus aside enough that the corner of the tank only grazed Severus' shoulder and his own palm as he batted it aside, and they both toppled heavily to the floor, Severus letting out an "oof" of surprise as the impact knocked the breath from his lungs.

They stared at each other for several long moments, amber eyes and black clashing in mutual shock at the situation. Then they moved at virtually the same instant, Severus' pushing at Remus with a snarled "Get OFF of me, Lupin!" while Remus sprang back to his feet almost as quickly has he had lunged before.

"Sorry, Severus," he began, reaching down to offer Severus assistance, not even noticing the pain in his own hand. "The tank..."

"Damn you, Lupin!" Severus spat, his face flushing with temper. Remus watched as Severus' hand flashed out, batting away Remus' offer contemptuously before moving to his own shoulder. Remus' eyes widened in dismay as he saw that the sharp edge of the tank had ripped through the fabric of Severus' robes, jacket, and shirt, and that rich, red blood was welling up, filling the air with a sweet metallic tang. Unconsciously Remus licked his lips, then stopped in horror as he saw something glittering and dangerous reflected in Severus' eyes.

"I'm very sorry," Remus said again, meaning both for the accident and his own damned lupine instincts. "You need to get to the infirmary, have Poppy take a look..."

"I know what I need to do, Lupin." Severus' voice was low and dangerous, and he rose to his feet slightly clumsily, one hand going automatically to his shoulder to staunch the blood.

"Let me help you..." Remus reached out to touch Severus' arm, but Severus jerked it back, hissing in pain. Still Remus' palm was covered in blood, and Severus' eyes narrowed.

"I do not need your help, wolf," Severus snarled, glaring down at Remus furiously. "I can manage on my own. You have assisted me quite enough for one evening, and I shall... What was that?"

Remus blinked, startled as he felt and heard the wards which sealed his office dropping into place. "Merlin, no!" he gasped, turning and lunging for his desk, for his wand, to undo the spells so that Severus could get out. His fingers closed around the wooden shaft, but only for a moment. His hand twisted, the fingers receding to stubs as the nails grew into claws, as he noted with mounting horror that the light from the windows had gone from pink to silver.

His transformation had begun.

If it hadn't been so terrible and potentially dangerous it might have been funny, as Remus fell heavily to the ground, sliding off the edge of his desk as his body contorted in agony. Wide amber eyes met Severus' shocked, horrified gaze, and if it hadn't hurt so much Remus would have told Severus to have faith in his own potion. As it was all that escaped his mouth - which was elongating rapidly into a snout - was something that resembled an apologetic whimper, and he watched through pain-glazed eyes as Severus backed against the door, hand scrabbling madly at the handle which refused to budge even a fraction of an inch.

It took several minutes for bones to break and reform, for muscles to shorten or stretch or disappear altogether, for internal organs to rearrange themselves, for skin to thicken sprout thick fur. It all hurt, but the worst was his tail, which didn't mutate from some other part but grew spontaneously from the base of his spine. Along the way Remus' trousers and shirt were completely shredded to ribbons by the change, leaving him laying on floor on a pile of demolished fabric, panting from the strain.

Throughout the process Severus had remained frozen in place, apparently unable to tear his eyes away from the vision of Remus slowly and excrutiatingly being broken and remade before his eyes. Remus never witnessed the process from "outside" before, but he could imagine that if it looked half as bad as it hurt that it must be quite a horrific sight indeed.

Severus' face was white, his lips tightly compressed together in what Remus thought could be a mighty effort to hold back the urge to scream. After all, it wasn't every day that your childhood nightmare once again came to life before your eyes, your personal bogeyman suddenly manifesting in all its hideous glory. All in all Remus thought that Severus was doing a very admirable job of not breaking down. But then again, this was Severus Snape, a man who knew little fear and would probably die before he would admit that there was anything in the universe which could make him flinch.

And yet Severus' hand still retained its white-knuckled grip on the door handle, showing that Severus was in no way ready to deal with Remus in his new state. So Remus made no effort to rise, no effort to move at all, laying still and quiescent beneath Severus' gaze, anxious to show that he was not going to attack. It didn't matter that his position was uncomfortable and the floor extremely cold this far from the fire, Remus had no intention of lifting a paw until Severus had time to deal with this situation and relax enough to not pull his wand and cast Avada Kedavra thinking Remus was on the attack.

After what seemed an eternity Severus released the handle, although Remus noticed it took some bit of effort for Severus to unclench his hand, and that he immediately rubbed at it with his other. Not surprising given the death grip Severus had had upon the metal. His muscles had probably cramped into position from the strength of that tense grip.

Remus watched Severus draw in a deep breath, forcing himself to relax even as he withdrew his wand from his robes. Remus himself tensed slightly at that, but Severus only looked at him.

"Lupin?" he said inquiringly, and Remus raised his lupine head and gave a slow nod, at which Severus nodded as well, curtly. There was still tension in Severus' shoulders and wariness in his eyes - as well as an annoyed curve to his lips - but the fear Remus had smelt on the air was receding.

Not that Severus wanted to stay locked in with him, of course. Still not turning his back on Remus, Severus began attempting to unlock the door, starting with "Aloha Mora!" and progressing through steadily more powerful and complex ways to remove the wards. After about five minutes he stopped, turning back to where Remus still lay attempting to remain as non-threatening as possible.

"I take it you did not employ any of the standard defensive wards to lock the door?" he asked, raising a sardonic brow. At Remus' nod of confirmation he snorted his annoyance. "Let me guess, something special and of your own design, which no one but you knows the passphrase to, and which even you yourself cannot break while in werewolf form?"

Again Remus nodded, slowly daring to pull himself upright, shaking his body to remove the last shreds of cloth and fluff out his matted fur. Severus stepped back against the door again as Remus moved, but really, Remus thought, what was there to be afraid of? Were he going to tear Severus' throat out he could have done it by now.

Severus was correct about the wards, of course. Remus was quite well acquainted with the cleverness of the students at the school, and he had no desire to be the source of some experimentation on the part of the Slytherins to play a wonderful prank and let him out on the unsuspecting pupils. Nor did he wish to be snuck up on, and the wards that locked him in also locked them out, keeping Remus himself safe.

Sighing, Severus crossed to the floo, picking up a handful of powder with distaste and throwing it on the grate. Nothing happened, however, no green flames to signal that the Floo was active.

This time when Severus looked at him it was with the faintest trace of what might actually be admiration under the ill-tempered glare. "Disabled the floo, both for transport and for talking?" he asked.

Giving the wolf equivalent of a shrug, Remus let out a single sharp bark of acknowledgment, watching as Severus' eyes went wide at the deep tone. If Remus could have spoken he would have, and he would have explained that he had made quite certain that no one could get into or out of this office before the moon had set in the morning. He had a suspicion that Dumbledore might have been able to pull it off, but he seriously doubted that anyone else - even Severus - could do it. Having once been a Marauder definitely had advantages when it came to not only getting around wards, but making impenetrable wards of ones own.

"I also would suppose that you have warded the office for sound - so that your howling doesn't disturb anyone, and made certain that even the House Elves natural mode of transportation cannot get through, in order to keep them safe," Severus drawled sarcastically.

Remus inclined his furry head, ears twitching slightly. Making a slight chuffing sound he trotted over towards the fireplace. Now that Severus seemed, if not comfortable, at least semi-resigned to remain, Remus saw no reason not to settle in for comfort. He spun around twice on the rug before the hearth, then settled down and looked at Severus, then at the leather chair placed before the fire.

For a moment it looked as though Severus would refuse, for he scowled worse than ever. Finally with a shrug that looked more like he was pulling his own teeth than giving in - and with a wince as he moved his injured shoulder, Severus stalked over to the chair, lowering himself down into it warily as though he expected there to be a whoopee cushion - or no dbout something far worse - waiting for him.

Watching with the amber eyes of a wolf, which reduced everything to monochromatic shades of gray, Remus regarded Severus, watching as Severus raised his wand and cast first a healing charm on his shoulder, then a mending charm on the ripped fabric of his robes. Finally, with a look of distaste, Severus cast a scourgify, removing the blood and the spilt Wolfsbane from the fabric. Apparently satisfied with his efforts, Severus finally turned his attention to Remus, raising a brow.

"I take it you can think of no other way to get me out of here, to remove me from the doubtful pleasure of your furry company," Severus said, his voice taking on a longsuffering tone that Remus had often heard Severus use with particularly dense and irritating students.

With a somewhat sheepish look on his grey furred face, Remus shook his head, ears twitching and tail thumping slightly on the ground. He couldn't help it, as the absurdity of the situation struck him fully now that the danger was completely past. Severus was locked in here with him, all night, with no way out. And Remus was stuck in wolf form and completely unable to take advantage of Severus' undivided attention in order to try to give some new depth to their relationship, something that he truly wished to do.

The irony was positively breathtaking.

Severus was staring moodily into the fire, one long finger tapping impatiently on the worn leather arm of the chair. Remus debated for several long moments, trying to figure out something to do to either make Severus feel a little better about their circumstances, or to perhaps even have Severus look at him in a different light. Absently he began to lick at his paw, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. Severus' blood, and his own.

With a snort Remus stopped, chuffing in annoyance with himself for doing something so unconsciously wolfish, especially in Severus' presence. No doubt Severus would make some scathing comment about Remus scratching at fleas if Remus kept up the canine act. At the sound Severus looked up, staring at Remus intently, but apparently not aware of Remus' consternation.

Well, excellent. One advantage to this form was that wolves couldn't blush.

"Trust me, Lupin, you are no more annoyed by this than I am. I would not be infringing on your privacy had I any other choice," Severus said morosely, waving a hand at Remus dismissively. "I had substantially more interesting plans for my evening that sitting in your office with nothing to do. And no tea to do it with."

Remus' ears when up at that, and he stood, shaking himself again before jerking his head at Severus, indicating that Severus should follow him. Severus, however, merely glared at him, not understanding. Finally Remus gave a sigh - which sounded suspiciously, impatiently human even to his own furry ears - and walked over to Severus staring at him for a moment before looking away, across his office.

"What in the devil do you want, Lupin?" the Potions Master asked with a dark frown marring his features. "Haven't you inconvenienced me quite enough without playing ridiculous games with me?"

Remus rolled his eyes, a gesture which was no less eloquent for his current form. Then he looked at Severus once more, then again across the office, before jerking his head in that direction and trotting a few paces, looking back over his shoulder expectantly.

Finally Severus seemed to get the message, and with a longsuffering snort he rose to his feet. "I suppose I had better see whatever it is that you want me to see, or else you will nag me with disgustingly Gryffindor persistence until I either go mad or hex you into oblivion, neither of which is going to please Albus." Glaring at Remus as though greatly affronted, Severus made to follow him.

Relieved, Remus trotted over to the credenza behind his desk, where a small tray had been arranged. During his first stint of teaching at Hogwarts, Remus had liked on mornings after his transformation to sit and have a cup of tea while he regained enough of his strength to be able to walk back to his quarters. Since he didn't like to use magic right afterwards, however - due to how weak and drained he usually felt - he had taken the precaution of putting a heating charm on a pot of water, leaving it with a canister of his favorite Earl Grey, a tea bell, cup, saucer, sugar, and even a plate of biscuits, all prepared for the next morning.

Severus stood regarding the tray, the turned back to Remus raising a brow. "I take it that you are suggesting that I help myself to your tea?"

Remus nodded, then added a short bark for emphasis. He wasn't certain whether Severus would actually take the offering or not, but at least he could say he had played as gracious a host as possible to his unwitting visitor, had done everything he could to try to make Severus' involuntary captivity bearable for him. If Severus chose to refuse his hospitality, so be it, but at least Remus had made the effort.

Trotting back over to his spot before the fire, Remus turned around twice and then curled up. He opened one golden eye, however, watching Severus as the dark-haired wizard seemed to hesitate for several moments, before making a "hmph" of impatience and setting about brewing the tea.

"I am only accepting this due to the fact that I should not like to die of thirst in your office," Severus said, glaring down into the tea cup as though it had given him some kind of personal offense. Then he looked over, turning his dark stare on Remus as though challenging him to dispute the claim. "I can think of very few ways which would be more unpleasant to perish than sitting here with a wolf, bored out of my mind. Just so that you understand, Lupin. I have no desire for you to suddenly consider this a willing social visit and expect me to play fetch with you, or, Merlin forbid, scratch your mangy ears."

Remus once more gave a non-commital chuff, letting his eye slide closed to cover the amusement he felt certain would be shining in them. His lupine lips were curved into the wolfish equivalent of a grin however, at the cranky way in which Severus had accepted the hospitality. Really, he honestly hadn't expected anything else, but to hear Severus carry on as though it were some kind of major social coup on Remus' part for Severus to accept a cup of tea from him was really far too amusing.

His hearing was sharp enough that Remus could easily track Severus as he added sugar - a surprising three spoonfuls, no less - to the fragrant tea and stirred the beverage a total of fifteen times, anti-clockwise. The motions of the spoon in the cup were oddly precise, but then Remus shouldn't be surprised, given Severus' line of work and years of stirring cauldrons. Then there was the small sound of the spoon being placed back on the tray, the cup and saucer picked up, then the rustle of robes and the surprisingly soft, almost fluid sounds of Severus returning to the chair, sinking down into it with a sigh of relief that any ears less sensitive than Remus' were would have missed.

Opening his eyes once more, Remus watched as Severus stared once again into the dancing flames, which imparted an unusual but quite attractive flush to the normally pale skin of Severus' high cheekbones. The light gave his raven-black hair a warmer cast, softening Severus' stark features, making him look strangely relaxed and taking several years off of his appearance. It was a very odd expression to see on Severus' face, but Remus drank it in greedily.

It was then that Severus turned to look at him, and their eyes, black and amber, met fully, each seeming to regard the other in a far more relaxed fashion than their previous history and their current circumstances would normally indicate. It was the first time Remus could ever remember Severus' dark gaze observing him with no hint of wariness in their ebony depths, the first time Severus' lips - looking warm and moist and full from the heat of the tea - weren't twisted into either a frown of distaste or a sneer of derision. In fact, Severus looked almost at ease, sitting there in the chair as though he were quite at home, posture not so rigid as usual.

Remus found himself wondering at this, at the strange comfort that seemed to settle upon the two of them, surprisingly him with how natural it felt. Perhaps it was that now that Severus was certain Remus wasn't going to try to bite him, that Severus felt some sort of satisfaction that Remus couldn't really do much at all. Not make small talk, nor ask uncomfortable, probing questions. Remus dared actually let himself think that Severus might be enjoying the undemanding companionship, that Severus might actually find Remus' presence restful. Given that Severus was not a restful person most of the time, Remus considered it to be an actual compliment, even though he knew Severus would never voice anything so positive in a million years.

Still, it made Remus happy, to be able to have company on the night of the moon, especially Severus' company. Silence was fine as far as he was concerned, it was just that the presence of another person, however involuntary, was something Remus hadn't enjoyed in many, many years. He wondered if, by some miracle, if Severus enjoyed the peacefulness enough, if Remus could coax him into trying it again next month.

Right. And no doubt goblins would start to fly any day now.

Snorting at the thought, Remus sighed again, his eyes once more sliding closed as the weariness from his transformation and the heat of the fire combined to make him very drowsy. Severus was here, that was all that mattered. Everything else was just going to be a matter of time.


	3. Waning Gibbous

When Remus awoke the morning after the full moon, he was not surprised to find himself curled up on the hearthrug with only a vague memory of transforming back, and Severus apparently long gone. No doubt Severus had left as soon as the wards had come down, to seek what rest he could in his own bed after an uncomfortable night spent in the leather chair. As he hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the stiffness of his muscles, Remus couldn't find it in himself to blame Severus for going. He pushed aside the little stab of disappointment he felt at not waking to Severus' presence, and ran his hands lightly over the black robe he had found himself covered with, pressing his nose against it and inhaling Severus' distinctive cinnamon-y scent.

That Severus had apparently been either considerate enough or compassionate enough to cover Remus with his own robe was a surprise. But it was a very welcome one indeed. It was certainly better than a slap in the face, at least.

Smiling, feeling better than he could remember feeling in a very long time after a transformation, Remus sought his own bed, his dreams infused with the sight of high, fire-lit cheekbones, flashing black eyes, and echoes of a rich, black velvet voice speaking to him quietly and affectionately.

\-----

"You're looking rather good, Re-Remus," Neville said, glancing at Remus quickly before looking back down at his plate and flushing slightly, the tips of his ears turning crimson with embarrassment. "I mean happy. You know. You don't normally, after a transformation. I mean, not that you look bad, but it's..." The flush on Neville's cheeks grew brighter as he stumbled over the words, obvious rather mortified at how they came out.

Remus smiled into his teacup, taking a sip and lowering it back down to its saucer before inclining his head, unoffended. Even after becoming an adult himself and being Remus' equal on the staff, Neville was still somewhat hesitant about calling Remus by his first name. Fortunately it seemed to be getting a bit easier, but Neville still had a tendency to stumble over his words when addressing both Severus and Remus. "Thank you. Yes, I am happier, I think. It was... a good transformation. Better than any I can remember in a long time."

Cheeks still pink, Neville glanced up, his eyes wide with surprise. "Really? Was it easier? Perhaps the new aconite I planted helped? It's a special strain from India, supposedly more potent and less toxic to the werewolf metabolism than the common variety that is normally used."

Remus felt a surge of affection for the younger wizard, and smiled kindly at Neville's obvious enthusiasm for his work.

Neville's presence on the staff had been one of the more pleasant surprises Remus had found upon returning to Hogwarts the previous month. A last minute addition for the year, the young man had stepped in to take the Herbology post when Professor Sprout had been called away unexpectedly to tend to her ill father. He was also standing in as substitute Head of Hufflepuff, which was a strange position for a Gryffindor to be in, but the Hufflepuffs - a very accepting bunch of people, all things considered - seemed fine with it as a temporary measure. 

Although only nineteen, Neville had a true affinity for his craft, and Remus was pleased to see the young man making use of his skills by teaching others. After the war, Remus had learned, Neville had spent a great deal of time in St. Mungo's, recuperating from an extremely vicious Cruciatus curse thrown on him by Bellatrix Lestrange. The dark-haired witch had apparently been intent upon inflicting the same fate upon Neville as she had upon his parents seventeen years prior, a fate which had left Frank and Alice Longbottom's minds destroyed to the point where they couldn't even recognize their own son. 

Neville had grown up being thought almost totally devoid of magic, almost a squib in fact, and so lacking in confidence in what magic he did seem to possess that he could barely function as a Wizard. Remus had sensed that there was far more to Neville than Neville gave himself credit for, and had tried, when he had taught at Hogwart's previously, to coax that magic out of Neville. He had had some success, coming to believe that Neville was quite possibly repressing his magic unconsciously, in reaction to what he had seen magic do to his parents. But then Remus' lycanthropy had been exposed, forcing him to leave Hogwarts, and he had no longer been able to help Neville discover the power he had within himself.

Yet Neville had apparently managed to find his magic on his own after all. In the final battle with Voldemort, Neville and the rest of Dumbledore's Army had engaged in a showdown with the Death Eaters who had attempted to overrun the school. Neville had show remarkable bravery helping to rescue many of the younger students who had been taken captive. It was during that rescue attempt that he had encountered Bellatrix, who, recognizing him, had lobbed curse after curse at him, curses which Neville countered as the younger students fled to safety. Curses that he would never have been considered powerful enough to resist in the past, but had managed to turn aside, saving many lives in the process.

That victory - and full flowering of Neville's power - had not, however, come without a price. Bellatrix had been an extremely strong witch, and eventually she had broken through Neville's shields, stripping away his defenses and leaving him vulnerable to attack. She had also been almost insane with fury by that point, throwing a strange, almost random variety of curses and hexes at Neville, the cumulative effects of which had taken the healer's at St. Mungo's months to try to figure out so that they could be removed.

The worst, of course, had been the multiple applications of Cruciatus. Remus couldn't begin to dream of how that must have felt to the younger wizard, knowing that the same magic which had destroyed his parents was being used against him, and by the same person.

Neville had, however, prevailed in the battle, summoning up some reserve of strength that amazed everyone who had witnessed it. Remus himself had not, but he had heard Hermione speak of it, voice tinged with awe. She had described the sight of Neville, face wracked with pain as he writhed on the ground, summoning up the strength to raise his wand, point it at Bellatrix, casting the Killing Curse upon her.

No one every would have thought that sweet, gentle Neville Longbottom ever could or would have done something like that. But if he hadn't, Neville would have quite probably have joined his parents in the hospital, spending the rest of his days staring silently at the walls and living within the confines of his own mind. Remus was glad that Neville had found the strength, and that the healer's at St. Mungo's had been able to help him overcome the trauma of the situation. Neville would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, thanks to unregenerable nerve damage from the Cruciatus, but at least he was alive.

"Perhaps that was it," Remus said lightly, not wanting to shoot down Neville's theory when Remus knew that Neville really did set such great store in the fact that Severus Snape, of all people, was now dependent upon Neville Longbottom for many of his potions ingredients. A fact which Severus had railed about at length at the first staff meeting, but Dumbledore had quietly yet very firmly overridden Severus' insistence that if Longbottom were not to be removed, that Severus be allowed to order his supplies from an outside company. Severus had not taken the defeat easily, however, and the Potions Master's ire was no minor thing with which to deal. Remus knew this first hand.

Or perhaps it was the company that made the transformation seem better. Easier, Remus thought to himself, glancing down the Head Table to where Severus sat, deeply engrossed in conversation with Draco Malfoy. Draco had been another surprise to him, although not nearly as pleasant a one as Neville. The blond Slytherin was in his second year of apprenticeship to Severus in Potions, and even though he had - apparently through Severus' intervention - come over to Dumbledore's side late in the war, Draco seemed to be carrying around a great deal of baggage. He barely spoke to anyone other than Severus, and he had outright sneered at Remus on several occassions since Remus' return, but had wisely kept any comments to himself. Remus was inclined to also given Draco the benefit of the doubt; after all, Draco had ended the war on the correct side, and, from what Remus had heard, had even provided some vital intelligence which helped the Order prepare for the final assault. 

Yet the glory of the Malfoy family was little more than a memory now. Lucius had died alongside his Master, and the Malfoy properties had been confiscated by the Ministry, forcing Draco to have to find employment to survive. Remus could imagine that for the wealthy, pampered scion of one of the oldest Pureblood families, it must be both painful and degrading to have lost his heritage and his fortune, when he had turned against his own father in order to do what was right. But just because Draco had done what was right didn't excuse him or his family in the eyes of the Ministry. Which was patently unfair.

Remus, given his own suffering at the hands of the Ministry and their prejudices, knew that fairness was rarely part of the agenda.

Smiling slightly, Remus drank in the sight of Severus for a long moment, until Draco, who was facing Remus' end of the table, glared back at him pointedly, pale eyes full of either dislike or warning - or perhaps it was both. Not that Remus - who had endured years and years of Snape-glares, the likes of which Draco could never even hope to emulate - was put off by that. Instead he merely allowed his smile to widen, and gave Draco a polite nod before turning his attention back to his dinner. Courtesy in the face of adversity seemed to be one thing that drove Slytherins absolutely mad, and Remus had his own special skill at the game.

"Do they have something going on, do you think?" Neville asked suddenly from beside him, having followed the direction of Remus' gaze. Remus, in the process of taking another sip of tea, nearly spat it out all over the table in shock at the unexpected question.

"Going on?" he asked, blinking in surprise. "Severus and Draco? I..." certainly hope not! "...don't think so." Remus frowned somewhat pensively. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that Severus could be interested in Draco, not any more than Remus could be interested in Neville. It seemed very wrong, somehow, inconceivable that someone who had acted as a mentor and close to a father figure to a younger man would be attracted to him in that way. It was almost like a violation of trust, not to mention that the age difference seemed absolutely staggering. And yet why would Draco glare at him so pointedly, unless he had possibly noted Remus' interest in Severus, and was giving him a warning glance to tell him to keep away?

No. Remus refused to think about it. Severus hadn't mentioned Draco the previous evening, hadn't said anything about "Thanks to you I am stuck here away from my young lover, I shall make you pay for that." Surely Severus would have rubbed his nose in it, wouldn't he have?

Neville's voice was low as he continued speaking. "There is speculation about it. Even back when Draco and I were still students. Those two are so much alike, after all."

Remus looked at Neville, his frown deepening and his voice taking on a somewhat censorous tone to cover his own dismay at that particular observation. "Really, Neville. Severus has never mentioned Draco like that in any of our conversations, and..." Remus paused, considering, then smiled suddenly with a feeling of intense relief. "And I certainly didn't scent Draco on Severus last night." If Severus and Draco were intimate in any way, Draco's scent would have been all over Severus' clothes, especially the robe Severus had laid over Remus before leaving. But there had been nothing but the faintest trace of the cold, woodsy scent that Remus associated with Draco, a level indicating no more than the most casual of physical contact. It was at almost the same level as the lemon-citrus scent of Albus Dumbledore.

"Last night?" It was Neville's turn to stare in wide-eyed shock. "You were with Snape last night? During the full moon? Alone?"

"Er... not with him in any prurient sense of the word," Remus said hastily, feeling his own cheeks flush at the thought. Not that he would mind the prurient part at any other time of the month, but during the full moon? Even if he were so inclined, surely Severus would recoil from that particular bit of perverseness. And yet....

"He was late bringing me the Wolfsbane potion, then had a bit of a mishap on his way out. My wards went up while he was still in my office, and so he was stuck there with me all night," Remus continued by way of explanation. He didn't know why he felt the need to justify himself. Perhaps it was the look of dismayed shock on Neville's face.

Neville blinked, then blinked again, mouth hanging open slightly before he shut it with a snap. Remus watched Neville's eyes look beyond him, back to where Severus were sitting, before snapping abruptly back to Remus. "He wasn't, er... mean to you was he?" Neville asked, looking concerned and faintly militant, which surprised Remus. "He didn't try to hurt you as a wolf?"

"No, of course not," Remus replied instantly, shaking his head in denial.

"Good, he had better not," Neville said, with an emphatic nod, his lips set in a firm, uncompromising line, a strangely hard look in his eyes and stubbornness in the set of his jaw.

Remus' surprise only increased. Neville felt protective of him... and against Severus of all people? Remus was taken aback at the decisively harsh tone of Neville's voice. This was, indeed, a very different young man than the one who had faced down a boggart of the Potions Master only five years before. He might still look like the same Neville on the outside, but the core of strength which had placed him in Gryffindor had apparently grown.

"He didn't," Remus hastened to assure Neville. Not that he thought Severus would, but there didn't need to be any more tension between the Head of Slytherin and the nominal Head of Hufflepuff. "We... well he talked a bit, mostly to complain about being locked in with me, but nothing really insulting. Well, no more insulting than Severus is usually, at least. Then I feel asleep in front of the fire, and he slept in the armchair, and when I woke up this morning he was gone." And covered with his robe, as though my comfort had mattered to him, somehow.

Neville's expression relaxed, and he flushed again. "Oh, I see... er, sorry." Remus watched as Neville's hands unclenched, and the young man gazed back at him with embarrassment evident in his eyes. "I just... well.. I know what it's like... for him to bully people, I mean... I just didn't want him... to do that to you. When you couldn't defend yourself."

Remus chuckled, reaching out to pat Neville's shoulder lightly. It really was nice to have Neville at the school, and it was pleasant - if a little overwhelming - to find out that Neville thought enough of him to be concerned on his behalf. "Trust me when I say that I have nothing to fear from Severus when I am a wolf. Him, or anyone else. I am a monster, you know. Dark Creature, infectious bite. Severus can be a git from time to time, but he's not actually stupid."

The blush on Neville's cheeks deepened. "Right. I... I forgot."

"Why Neville," Remus said sincerely, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "That is one of the nicest compliments anyone has ever paid me!"

"Really?" Neville flushed more, but the look in his eyes was pleased.

"Yes, really," Remus assured him.

Rising to his feet, Remus sighed. "Well, I'm for bed. I know it's early, but I tire easily after the moon. If you will excuse me, I bid you a pleasant evening."

"Of course. Er... sleep well," Neville said.

With a final smile, Remus turned toward the door. He caught Severus' glance at him as he moved, the black eyes watching him with an unreadable expression. Remus smiled wider, inclining his head politely, suddenly feeling very light and warm as Severus nodded back to him.

It wasn't much on the surface, but at least it was a start, a small step in the direction he would like to be headed. Perhaps he could invite Severus for a game of chess when he returned Severus' robe to him tomorrow. He knew he could have brought the robe down to dinner with him and returned it to Severus right there, but he wanted the excuse to speak to Severus in relative privacy. A chance to look into Severus' eyes and see if he could find the calm acceptance he had seen there in those dark depths the previous night.

As he exited the Great Hall, feeling remarkably cheerful for so soon after his Curse, Remus was completely unaware that more than one pair of eyes watched him speculatively as he left.

\-----

Despite his determination on the subject, it wasn't until the following day that Remus had a chance to return Severus' robes to him, taking himself off to the Dungeons before Sunday dinner. He hadn't spent much time in the lower reaches of the castle since his return, not that Severus encouraged visits anyway. 

The cool, damp stone of the walls welcomed Remus with the well-remembered smells of earth and dampness, bringing back memories of hiding out from Slytherins during the hot days near the end of the school year, seeking relief from the oppressive heat outside that seemed to bake Gryffindor Tower's lofty spire. Even though the castle was supposedly "climate controlled" for the comfort of the students, it always seemed that the worst heat rose to the boy's dormitories, sending them scattering to the lake or Forest or the, in the Marauders case, to the dungeons in search of respite. Dungeons which had been stalked by Severus all those years ago, and were absolutely ruled by him now.

Making his way down the main corridor, Remus caught the whiff of a familiar odor, and looked at a suspiciously clean, clear patch near one of the staircases. Not doubt that was where Severus had had his little encounter with the unfortunate Mr. Creevey, who - true to Severus' prediction - was far more mortified by the bald patches on his head from the contact with the Wolfsbane than he was about the detention with dreaded Professor Snape. Remus smiled in silent sympathy, although a part of him thought with wicked amusement that he would happily volunteer to serve young Dennis' detention, if only he could.

And wouldn't that give Severus a bit of a shock.

Still grinning slightly, Remus made his way to Severus' office, not surprised to see through the open door that Severus was seated at his desk, a pile of parchment stacked to either side, bottle of red ink before him and a quill in his long, finely boned hand. Pausing just outside, Remus contemplated the sight for a moment, letting his eyes roam over the planes of Severus' face, the contour of high cheekbones and the firm, almost harsh ridge of his brow, creased now as he frowned down at something on the paper he was currently marking. Then Remus reached out, rapping lightly on the doorframe, and Severus looked up with surprise tinged with - Remus fancied - only a faint trace of his normal annoyance.

"Lupin," the Potions Master said briefly, raising a brow in inquiry but making no move to stand. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Neutral words, but not hostile, and Remus allowed his smile to widen as he took them for invitation and crossed the threshold into Severus' office. "I brought back your robe," he said lightly, moving to Severus' desk and laying the bundle of black cloth on the table. I hope you don't mind, but I cleaned them and mended a couple of spots where it looked like the Wolfsbane managed to eat through the cloth."

There was a flash of surprise in the dark eyes, which then narrowed with speculation, although Severus merely nodded in acknowledgment of Remus' attention to his robes. "Very well. I suppose thanks are in order, although I could have gotten the House Elves to do the same thing, so you needn't have bothered."

"I know," Remus replied, undaunted. Inwardly he was vastly amused at Severus being so... Severus. "But I thought I would return the kindness which you showed me, by leaving me your robe so that I didn't become chilled after my transformation."

Raising a dark brow, Severus contemplated that for several long moments, his dark gaze seeming to practically bore through Remus as though searching him for some secret, hidden inner motivation, apparently looking the proverbial gift horse straight in the teeth. Inclining his head, Remus held that gaze undaunted, letting Severus look in and see the - relative - purity of his motives.

"Very well, Lupin," Severus drawled, accepting the black wool as though he were doing Remus a great favor by doing so. "Although I must clear up your misconception that kindess motivated my leaving the robes over you. First, and foremost, you are a college who misses quite enough of his required duties in this school due to illness, and I did not wish for you to come down with a chill or other condition which would necessitate even more absences on your part - absences which, I feel compelled to point out, require that your duties be taken up by the rest of us. Secondly, since it was, in essence, due to me - although hardly my fault, you understand - that your own clothing was demolished quite beyond repair by your transformation, I felt it only equitable that I leave you something with which to cover yourself once you were capable of making your way back to your rooms. While the students are wont to engage in all kinds of voyeuristic nonsense with respect to one another, it is not behavior which we as a faculty should either condone or abet. And, finally, there is the matter of aesthetics to be considered. Watching you shiver from hypothermia is hardly an endearing sight, you know. I was merely protecting my own standards of what I care to subject myself to at that hour of the morning, and the vision of you, pale and trembling upon the rug is so maudlin in a Victorian way that I could not bear the sight of it."

Remus blinked at that, a little non-plussed at this sudden verbosity from the normally terse Severus. He nodded slowly, acknowledging all of Severus' points, before his inner sense of humor took over, telling him that Severus' little diatribe had all the trappings of a 'planned speech' if ever Remus had heard one. Obviously Severus was going to no small amount of trouble to tell Remus precisely and in great detail just how little Severus cared and how the gesture - the very nice, very human gesture - of leaving the robe had only been for Severus' own, rather self-centered reasons. Which meant, Remus was almost certain, that Severus was quite concerned that Remus not take it for a caring gesture.

Which, to those well versed in Snape-logic, meant that a caring gesture is precisely what it had been.

"Of course, Severus," Remus replied gravely, forcing any hint of a smile from his lips as he nodded in wide-eyed acceptance of Severus' claim. "Pardon me for believing it was motivated by anything except perfectly logical, calculated reasons. I presumed too much." Remus' tongue was firmly in his cheek as he uttered the bald-faced assertion.

Severus' dark eyes narrowed, as though he picked up on the amusement that lay under Remus' carefully obsequious tone, or caught the sparkle in Remus' eyes as he withheld the chuckle of affectionate amusement that so desperately wished to escape his lips. But Severus said nothing, merely nodding. "Is there anything else, then? Since we seem to understand each other quite well on the subject." There was more than a hint of warning in Severus' tone, but to Remus it was just more fuel to the fire of his affection.

"Well, now that you mention it, yes there is," Remus said politely. "I was wondering if you would like, on some evening in the near future, to engage in a game of chess? I find the available players to be somewhat less than challenging, and I would love to go up against someone with a skill at or above my own. Rumor has it that you are quite good, really. Care to prove it?"

Remus had very carefully memorized his invitation, making certain to hit all of Severus' buttons. An appeal to Severus' vanity, a hint of Remus' own mastery of a complicated and difficult game, and, last but not least, a direct and outright challenge, as close to a dare as he could indulge in given the present company. Almost holding his breath in anticipation, Remus stared down at the still seated Potions Master, and waited to see which way the wind was blowing today. Would Severus, or wouldn't he be able to resist the figurative gauntlet that Remus had just hurled?

Once again dark eyes narrowed. "Chess," Severus repeated, almost as though he had never heard the word before. "You want to play chess. With me."

Nodding, Remus smiled again. "Yes, I would," he said, crossing his hands over his chest and donning a very slightly challenging posture. "If you are up to it, that is. I realize you are a very busy man and might not have the time or attention to devote to a rigorous game."

"I have the time and attention," Severus shot back immediately, obviously a bit piqued by Remus stance and tone. "As for interest, however..."

"Ah, I see," Remus responded, nodding sadly. "Well, then, no problem, Severus, I'll just go back to playing with Neville. He's a very sweet young man, but not the challenge I would prefer to face. Again, thank you for the use of your robe, I do appreciate your totally logical reasons for loaning it to me."

Spinning on his heel, Remus started towards the door, counting down in his head as he made a bet with himself. At "eight", two short of his guess, the bet was called.

"Lupin." Severus' voice was gruff, and it sounded as though the word had been torn out of him almost by force.

Remus paused, but waited a whole second before turning around, facing Severus with a completely bland face. "Yes, Severus? Was there something else you wanted?"

The pained look on Severus' face was absolutely priceless. Remus had brought out the big guns in mentioning Neville, and he knew it. There was no way that Severus could resist the challenge of showing up Neville, especially not now that Neville was practically Severus' social and professional equal in the school. "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock," Severus said, almost biting out the words. "Here, in my office. I have my own chess set, but feel free to bring yours as well."

This time Remus couldn't hide the smile, although he made very sure that what came through was happiness, not victory. "Thank you, Severus," he said, nodding in acknowledgment. "I shall look forward to it a great deal. One so rarely finds opponents of real skill."

"One can, if one knows where to look," Severus stated, with a smug smile on his face. "It is just that Gryffindor Tower is not the fertile hunting grounds that the Slytherin dungeons are."

"Indeed?" Remus murmured, thinking that he was only interested in hunting a single type of prey, the rare and unique Potions Master. But he didn't let so much as a breath of that escape his lips. "Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow, Lupin," Severus acknowledged. "Do not be la..."

Severus broke off, frowning, as Draco suddenly burst into the office through a back door, looking alarmed and somewhat disheveled, blond hair sticking up slightly as though it had been mussed and he had slicked it down hastily with his hands. "I'm sorry, Severus. You sent for me?" he asked, shooting Remus a very nasty, speculative look. "What is he doing here?"

Before Remus could do more than gape at the rude tone, Severus had rounded on his apprentice. "Professor Lupin came to return something of mine, Draco," he said, voice firm but not harsh, lacking the venom Remus knew it could hold when speaking those same words to someone not of Severus' House. "Yes, I sent for you some time ago. I wish you to finish marking these papers," Severus pointed to the larger of the two stacks, "while I begin to set prepare sets for tomorrow's first lesson." Rising from his chair Severus moved away from the desk and towards Remus.

Draco had flushed at Severus' mild rebuke, shooting Remus another baleful look out of the corner of his silvery eyes. "Yes, sir," he replied, taking Severus' seat.

"If you will excuse me, I have more work to do," Severus said, not impolitely but apparently in a desire to be about his business. "Tomorrow, Lupin. Do not be late."

"I won't," Remus replied, smiling. "I have to prepare for classes myself. Good evening, Severus. Good evening, Draco."

"Good evening, Lupin," Severus said, turning and heading for the back of the office. 

Remus' gaze moved to Draco, but the blond Slytherin was studiously ignoring him. Sighing, Remus walked to the door, but turned back at the entrance, managing to catch Draco looking at him with a singularly intense and not at all happy expression. Remus nodded politely, but Draco dropped his eyes.

Departing the classroom, Remus wondered at the amount of dislike Draco seemed to hold him in. Was it because he was a werewolf? Because he was a half-blood? Was it because he was Harry's friend and supposed mentor, and Draco was still nursing a tremendous grudge against Harry? Remus wasn't certain, but he felt unsettled by the intensity of that dislike, especially from someone to whom he had never, to his knowledge, ever done any harm.


	4. Last Quarter

Last Quarter

"Your move, Lupin."

Remus nodded vaguely, staring down at the board and biting his lip in concentration as he gazed at the arrangement of the pieces on the board, which was scattered with the debris of their brethren which had already gone down in the valiant attempt to protect their King. This was a critical move, once which could cost him the game. Although in no way would Remus feel like he had been defeated, even if he did lose - after all, how could he be unhappy about their third game in three days?

Glancing up at Severus through his lashes, Remus smiled slightly, his mind completely distracted from the bishop which was currently quite at risk from Severus' rather wicked pawn play. The piece glanced up at him with a bit of dismay, then went back to eying the surrounding pawns, brandish his staff menacingly but ineffectively against the superior forces.

Severus was every bit as good a player as Remus, if not a bit better, and it meant Remus had to stay on his toes. Not that he was bothered by that - in fact he found it absolutely exhilarating to go up against Severus in a battle of strategy and witsm where the prize was the time that he got to spend in Severus' company - definitely a winning proposition in Remus' book. He loved to watch Severus absorbed in the match, brow furrowed in concentration rather than annoyance, eyes sharp with consideration rather than anger. Severus' was a fascinating man, and Remus only felt his attraction to Severus growing with every minute spent in his company.

Their first game, two days before, had gotten off to a stilted, somewhat hesitant start, but after several sharp, inquiring glares from Severus were met with nothing but polite, calm smiles by Remus, and no personal questions seemed imminent, Severus had settled in to the game, playing with ferocious concentration, every bit as intense as the way Severus seemed to do everything in his life. Remus had paid strict attention to the game as well, not only because of his boast about his own prowess, but because to lose would undoubtedly remove any interest Severus had in a rematch. And Remus most definitely was interested in a rematch, multiple ones if possible.

Remus had won that game, but it had been a very near thing indeed, the outcome in doubt right up until the end when his queen stood panting and victorious, sword pointed at the heart of Severus' King as the King gave Severus a fearful glance before kneeling in defeat. Still it had been a victory, and Remus had smiled gently at the way Severus had glared at the board and his pieces as though they had somehow been at fault for his loss. "You are a tolerable opponent," Severus had said grudgingly, by way of acknowledging Remus' victory.

"How about a rematch tomorrow?" Remus had offered after a long moment, and had felt himself once again the target of intense, black-eyed scrutiny. Scrutiny which he had borne with quiet dignity, merely raising one brow politely as though inviting Severus to find fault with his offer.

After a further pause, Severus had seemed to make up his mind, relaxing very slightly as he nodded his acquiescence. "Very well. Tomorrow, same time. Now if you will excuse me I need to finish up some grading."

Remus hadn't argued, but had risen and, after a polite expression of thanks for a well-played game, had departed back for his own quarters. Outwardly he had been calm, but inwardly he had felt positively gleeful. If he could keep Severus' interest up in playing chess with him, perhaps, over time, he could introduce the idea of them spending even more time together. Time away from Hogwarts, perhaps. Time which might, with any luck, eventually involving touching, and kissing, and the removal of clothing, leading eventually to a mate that was more satisfying than any to be had from a chess board.

Their second game had been won by Severus, who had given a smug smile of victory as his Queen's bishop had thwacked Remus' King solidly on the head and sent the poor monarch lurching to his knees. Remus hadn't felt too badly about that, however. "It seems we are evenly matched," he had said casually. "Congratulations, that was very well played."

"So it would seem," Severus had replied, gifting Remus with another intense look which Remus had again met with calm equanimity. There had been a long - a very long - sort of pause, then Severus had spoken again. "I suppose we cannot leave it at a tie. Tomorrow. Same time."

As invitations went it was hardly the most gracious he had ever received, but Remus wasn't arguing. For the first time that he could remember, ever, Severus had been the one to reach out to him, to initiate a meeting which had nothing to do with Wolfsbane, Order business, or their duties at the school. Severus had invited him, and Remus felt like Christmas had come early.

Of course he couldn't show it, and so Remus had merely accepted the invitation with grave courtesy, not letting his inner pleasure show. Wooing Severus was obviously going to require patience and a great deal of time, but what else did Remus have besides time?

"Are you going to move, Lupin, or are you falling asleep?" Severus asked, pulling Remus abruptly out of his reverie and to an awareness that his bishop was starting to signal to him frantically, plainly panicking about the continued proximity of Severus' pawns.

"I'm sorry, Severus," he apologized immediately. "I was running the move options through my mind and trying to project what you were going to do in the future." Remus' words were perfectly true. They just had absolutely nothing to do with chess and everything to do with Severus himself.

Reaching out a hand, Remus lifted the bishop - who sagged with relief - and moved him out the way of immediate harm. The piece eyed the rook to his left somewhat warily, before nodding to his King's side counterpart who acknowledged his defense of his partner's position.

"Were you?" Severus murmured, his gaze intent on the board. "Trying to predict the moves of a Slytherin is not an easy prospect, is it? We tend to be prone to doing the unexpected, do we not?" With that, Severus picked up his rook, who descended upon the surprised bishop, crashing into him and shattering him with a loud crack. "And that is check, I believe."

Remus regarded the board in surprise for a moment. "Yes, Slytherins are very hard to predict," Remus murmured, picking up his other bishop and sending him against Severus' black rook. After a moment the lofty tower fell with a crash, and Severus picked up the pieces, dumping them next to the board.

"Sometimes it is necessary to sacrifice something obvious in the interests of setting up one's attack for a longer term campaign," Severus replied, shrugging as though the loss of the rook didn't bother him one bit. He looked at Remus, raising a brow in inquiry. "To run an obvious distraction in the hopes that your opponent will be distracted from discovering your true motivations. Especially when ones opponent is familiar with all the classic defenses, and a new strategy seems to be in order. Have you not noticed that?"

"Of course," Remus replied quietly, leaning back in his chair, raising one hand and running it through his hair in a distracted gesture. "It is a very logical tactic, one that any good player both knows and employs as much as possible."

Severus' gaze returned to the board, while Remus' gaze stayed on Severus. Remus had the feeling that there might be some deeper message there in those words, which were probably the most that Severus had ever said to him at one time without snarking or insults being involved.

"Of course," Severus repeated slowly, frowning in concentration. Finally he reached out, picking up a rather nervous looking Knight and pulling him back towards the King, apparently entrenching a defense. Dark eyes glanced up at Remus speculatively. "You are a careful, cautious player, Lupin. Not one to throw caution to the winds in favor of a sudden, completely unexpected move, are you?"

The suspicion that they were no longer talking about chess occurred to Remus, and he felt a little frisson of anticipation run down his spine. He wasn't certain, but could Severus actually be, well, not flirting exactly, but trying to determine Remus' own feelings?

But Severus was correct, Remus was both careful and cautious, and unwilling - yet - to be too rash in expressing his intentions. Especially since he wasn't quite certain that Severus was addressing anything more than their chess game.

"Not usually, no," Remus responded, dropping his eyes to the board once more. "I have found that caution isn't always the best route in all situations, but it is often easier to predict the consequences of a cautious move than an incautious one. There is no gain without risk, but... well, sometimes a slow, steady campaign can bring the same results as a quick strike, although it takes longer for the reward."

With that, Remus picked up his remaining bishop, moving it forward several spaces, past the pawns which had threatened his now deceased counterpart. "Check."

A smirk touched Severus' lips, and he moved quickly, his Rook taking Remus' Bishop with a mighty crash. "Sometimes, with the right move, the reward can be immediate."

Remus blinked, caught by surprise by Severus' rapid response. Then he grinned, glancing up at Severus. "You seem to like taking more risks than I do, Severus." He paused, his smile taking on a wicked slant. "Or provoking rapid responses from your opponents, perhaps?"

A flash of something that looked oddly like respect crossed Severus' face, before the Potions Master resumed his bland expression. "If I were to admit that it would be a revelation of strategy, would it not?"

"Yes, it would," Remus agreed. He moved one of his own Knights, taking one of Severus' Pawns, which squealed in dismay as it was trampled under unforgiving hooves. Glancing back up, he raised a brow at Severus. "Your move, I believe?"

With a nod, Severus reached out, a Pawn taking Remus' Knight, felling the horse with the point of a small but sharp sword. "It seems you are no stranger to sacrifice plays, Lupin."

"Not completely, no," Remus agreed. He moved his Queen, taking the Rook which guarded Severus' King. "Check."

"What about not making hasty moves?" Severus murmured. He sent his own Queen out to take Remus', the two pieces hissing at each other, clashing swords until Remus' Queen fell and broke into a thousand pieces.

Remus' smile didn't waver, and his remaining Knight tromped down on Severus' Queen. "Perhaps. Or sometimes a move that appears hasty was actually thought out well in advance, and merely executed with speed when the time appears right." He paused. "Check."

"Indeed," Severus responded, frowning at the board. "It is wise not to confuse caution with indecisiveness." He made a move, sliding his King back a space away from Remus' Knight.

"Very wise," Remus agreed, picking off the last one of Severus' Pawns with his King. "And that, my dear Severus, I believe means that our game has ended in a stalemate. Which proves that each of our methodologies are both correct and incorrect - depending on the circumstances."

Severus had watched the last move, then looked up at Remus, his pale face inscrutable. "Yes," he said slowly. "A draw. The interesting thing about a draw, however, is that both players, according to the rules, share a victory."

"Or share the defeat," Remus replied softly. He inclined his head to one side, studying Severus closely for a long moment, before deciding to take a page from Severus' strategy book and up the level of risk. "The most interesting point, I believe, is that we appear to be quite evenly matched. In many different ways. An intriguing fact which I find highly... stimulating."

Remus watched as something intense seemed to flash in Severus' eyes, watched as Severus appeared to consider his words very carefully. Remus held his breath, wondering what response Severus was going to have to say in response to his subtle ploy. Would it be more banter, carrying on the conversation which had, amazingly, slipped from exchanged witticism to a subtle flirtation? Would it be a stern rejection, yet another snarky comment to put Remus firmly in his place?

"Lupin," Severus began, having apparently made up his mind. He stared intently into Remus' eyes, and Remus stared back, thinking about how easy it would be to lose himself in those fathomless depths, especially to the accompaniment of Severus' incredible voice.

"Yes, Severus?" Remus asked softly, feeling anticipation coil in his chest. Was that heat he saw in Severus' eyes?

The barest hint of something that looked almost like a smile - on anyone except Severus Snape - touched the corners of Severus' thin lips. "Correct me if I am wrong, Lupin, but I do believe that you are..."

A loud, almost frantic knock interrupted the words, and both Severus and Remus blinked in surprise. Remus thought that he saw annoyance briefly flash across Severus' face at the unexpected intrusion. But whatever Severus felt was wiped away as they heard Draco's nearly panicked voice speaking from the other side of the office door.

"Severus! Severus, you have to come quickly! There's been a fight in the Slytherin Common Room, and it's getting out of control!"

In a moment Severus was on his feet, long legs striding for the door. He yanked it open, staring down at Draco. "Injuries?" he asked, and Remus saw Draco nod. In fact, there appeared to be a smear of blood on one of Draco's cheeks, and if he wasn't mistaken, once of the younger wizard's eyes looked like it was in imminent danger of developing one beauty of a shiner.

Draco had obviously been involved in the altercation... Remus only hoped that it was as an intercessor, not as an instigator.

Severus turned back. "I believe our game was over, Lupin. I have an urgent matter to attend to. Good evening." With that Severus moved through the door, pushing past Draco in a swirl of robes as he made his way hastily towards his House Common Room.

Remus was concerned for the students, yet also disappointed that their conversation had been interrupted. What had Severus been going to say? Would it have furthered things, or put them forever out of Remus' grasp?

It was then that Remus became aware that Draco was still standing in the doorway, pale grey eyes looking at Remus with an odd expression on his face, one that combined cold contempt with something deeper. Remus didn't like to put stock in rumor, and yet... could it possibly be jealousy there in Draco's eyes?

"Did you want to say something, Mr. Malfoy?" Remus asked softly, keeping his manner easy and open.

Draco seemed to hesitate, then he spoke, his voice harsh. "Why are you here? Why are you hanging around Severus? He doesn't need you."

Well. Perhaps Remus had been wrong about the jealousy. "I think that's between Severus and I, Mr. Malfoy. If Severus did not want my presence, do you have any doubt he would let me know in no uncertain terms that I was unwelcome, and not to return?"

Silver eyes narrowed, and Draco's thin face looked pinched and pale. He was normally quite a handsome young man, but the ill temper of his expression did not sit well on Draco's features. "Severus doesn't need you," Draco repeated. "You've hurt him before, werewolf..."

"That's Professor Lupin, Mr. Malfoy," Remus snapped back, drawing himself up to his full height - shorter than Severus, but taller than Draco - and giving Draco a cold look of his own. He was normally easygoing, and he did believe that politeness in the face of rudeness was an excellent tactic, but Draco had just gone way too far, and Remus wasn't going to take it for a single moment. "You would do well not to forget that in the future."

"Certainly, Professor," Draco replied. He then favored Remus with a glare than only the very, very rich - or very, very arrogant, or both - seemed capable of giving. Then with an bow that was as excruciatingly polite as it was completely mocking, Draco spun and stalked off after Severus, leaving Remus staring after him, exasperated and annoyed.

Remus shook his head. There was definitely something going on with Draco, something that Remus was going to have to get to the bottom of, sooner or later. There was no way that this amount of hostility could come out of nowhere - had Severus told Draco about their history at school, years ago? About the prank Sirius had pulled, the one that had nearly gotten Severus killed at Remus' hands? Was it protectiveness that Draco felt for Severus... or was it outright jealousy?

He frowned slightly, considering. Just because Remus didn't think that there was anything going on between Severus and Draco, that didn't mean that Draco didn't wish that there were, or even that Draco wasn't working desperately toward that end. If that were the case, it might explain the way Draco had treated him, which was definitely becoming worse and worse the closer that Remus got to Severus, the more time that he spent in Severus' company.

Frowning, Remus conceded that it did appear that Draco considered him a rival for Severus' attention, if not for his affection. And Draco was a young man who was not only used to getting what he wanted, he was also well known for doing anything - literally anything - to make certain that he did.

Remus decided that he would do quite well to be cautious, just in case; he didn't want to wind up with a knife in his back, either figuratively or literally.

\---

"Can anyone name all ten of the Dark Creatures of Europe?" Remus asked, leaning back against his desk and surveying the combined class of Third Year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. He noticed some uneasy looks exchanged between a few of the Hufflepuffs, as well as some rather nasty smiles from some of the the Slytherins, but it really didn't phase him. These children were still young enough to be educated as well as merely taught, and Remus was generally considered to be a very good teacher.

"Come, come, don't be shy!" he encouraged with a smile. "How about we start with one? Anyone?"

A few hesitant hands went up and Remus pointed to a very small, very blonde girl in the first row, who flushed pink at the attention. "Yes, Cassiopeia?"

Blushing slightly, the young Hufflepuff said "Vampires?" in a hesitant voice. Then she blushed furiously, and was nudged by the girl next to her, who giggled. Remus took no notice, although inwardly he smiled.

"Very good!" Remus replied, nodding. "Vampires, native to Romania. Another? Yes, Carstairs, what do you have?"

The brown-haired Slytherin gave Remus a haughty look down the length of his aquiline nose. "Banshee. From Ireland," he answered, smirking slightly with the certain knowledge that he was correct.

"Excellent, Carstairs, excellent!" Remus smiled. "The Shrieking Demons, or Ban Sidhe, who are indeed native to the Emerald Isle. How about another? Anyone? You don't have to wait for me to call on you, just go ahead and say it out loud."

"Err... Boggarts?" A hesitant voice piped up from the back of the room, and Remus nodded at the dark-haired Hufflepuff who had spoken.

"Yes indeed, Boggarts, found all through Europe, changing form to incapacitate their victims by showing them their greatest fear. Another? Anyone? How about you, Mr. Turnbull?"

The pale Slytherin thus addressed gave Remus a bit of a glare from deep blue eyes for being called on, but Remus bore it stoically. Turnbull was very smart, quite possibly even brilliant, and Remus wanted to draw him out into participating. The boy was normally very taciturn, seeming to want to hide his intellect for some reason, rather than let it be seen.

Turnbull also sported a nasty cut above one eye and a purpling bruise on his jaw, making Remus wonder if the boy had been part of the altercation on the previous day in the Slytherin Common Room.

Remus continued to look at the young wizard, keeping his expression open and inquiring so as not to alienate the young wizard - not an easy task, given Turnbull's vague antagonism. "Basilisk," Turnbull finally said, as though the word were being pulled from him. Then he responded to Remus' encouraging nod with a glare. "Erkling, Grindylow, Hag, Nogtail, Quintaped... and Werewolf."

There were several moments of uneasy silence in the class, as Turnbull almost spat the last word as an epithet. Remus himself was rather taken aback at the vehemence, wondering if it were a left over from the Pureblood biases of the old family Slytherins - and Turnbull was very, very Old Family - or if it was a prejudice of a more recent vintage.

"You are entirely correct," Remus said quietly, nodding. "Of course, all of you know that I myself am a werewolf, a person who suffers from the Curse of Lycanthropy." He looked at Turnbull directly. "Now, one important thing which you should all be aware of it that Dark creatures are not necessarily evil. The term Dark refers primarily to the magic that is either used by the creature, or was used to call the creature into existence in the first place. Can anyone tell me the primary difference between Vampires and Werewolves, and the rest of the Dark creatures? Anyone?"

Remus was certain that Turnbull knew the answer to the question, could see the knowledge practically shining in the boy's eyes. But Turnbull remained steadfastly silent.

"The primary difference," a smooth, velvety voice drawled from the doorway, and Remus looked up in surprise to see Severus standing there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed across his chest and one brow raised. "Is that Vampires and Werewolves are humans who have been placed under a curse, while the other creatures mentioned are born, hatched, or otherwise called into being as their true forms."

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Remus said, rising to his feet with a hint of a smile. Not just for Severus' presence, either, but for the words, and how he phrased them. It was subtle, but the message was the one that Remus had been intending to impart to his students - that there was a difference between people who were essentially victims of a Dark curse, and Dark creatures who were born and had never known any other existence.

"The Professor is exactly correct, of course," Remus continued, addressing his students. "The curse which infects Vampires - turning them into undead - derives from a blood infection which was developed by a very Dark wizard who sought to attain immortality through drinking the blood of others. Lycanthropy is an even older curse, which some say was handed down as a judgment by the god Zeus on a man named Lycaon, who displeased the god by serving up human flesh at a feast. Others claim that it is the earliest attempt at the animagus transformation, but that the spell went horribly awry due to the interference of a Dark wizard, and doomed the caster to turn into a blood thirsty monster each month, spreading the curse through his bite. In any even, both the Vampire and the Werewolf are born human, whereas all other Dark creatures come into being as themselves."

The signal for the end of the class period sounded, and Remus waved his hand at the board, flipping it over to reveal the homework assignment he had written upon it before class began. "Eight inches of parchment, an essay on the difference between Dark and Evil. Due next Monday!" he told the class, who scribbled down the instructions hastily. Then the students were standing, gathering up their items and getting ready to move to their next class, brushing by the Potions Master as they departed. A few - mostly Severus' own students - dared a glance at their Head of House as they passed, but Severus spoke to none of them, merely nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

Remus was intensely curious as to why Severus had stopped by, but he held his tongue until the class was empty. It was now Remus' free period, and he knew that if Severus had something to say, Severus would get around to it in his own good time and not one second before. Questions would only serve as an annoyance.

"Won't you come in?" Remus asked, moving to sit behind his desk, rather than on it. At that point a tea tray popped into existence on the surface, holding a steaming pot and a plate of sandwiches. And, surprisingly, two cups. "I see that the House Elves are as efficient as ever and have anticipated your arrival. Would you care for tea?"

Severus straightened and entered the room, closing the door behind him, somewhat to Remus' surprise. He crossed to the raised dias, pulling his wand and summoning a chair, which slid over obligingly and stopped precisely in front of the desk. Sinking down, Severus nodded at Remus' question, and Remus poured out two cups, passing one to Severus.

There was a not uncomfortable silence as they each prepared their tea - Remus with cream and sugar, Severus with a dollop of honey from a pot on the tray - and Remus sipped at his cup, looking at Severus over the rim. There was preoccupation in Severus' dark eyes, and Remus wondered if Severus was thinking about their "conversation which had become a subtle flirtation" on the previous night. But he said nothing, and waited for Severus to find whatever motivation he needed to speak, content in the meantime that, for once, Severus had sought him out. It was a small step, perhaps, but - hopefully - it was progress.

Severus sipped at his own tea, then raised his eyes to Remus. "There is an issue that we need to discuss," he began, voice carefully neutral.

A small frisson of alarm ran down Remus' spine. Whatever this was, it didn't look like it was going to be pleasant. An "issue"? Was Severus going to say that they couldn't even be friends? "An issue?" he asked, although he bit off the urge to blurt out the rest of his thought, letting Severus take the lead in the conversation.

Black eyes narrowed, and the thin lips pulled down in the hint of a frown. "Yes, an issue," he replied. "You recall that our... chess game... was interrupted by an altercation in the Slytherin Common Room. Not an unusual occurrence by any means, when you put together raging hormones and teenagers living in close proximity to each other. I've had to break up more than one fight over the years, but this one... this one was fundamentally different. It was the first time I have ever seen the students of my House so polarized over something. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, that I should have seen it coming... but, well, my own attitudes have had substantially more time to adjust than theirs. So I did not."

Remus considered the words, nodding slowly. "What is the issue, then?"

"Whether anyone except Purebloods should be allowed to be Wizards." Severus said the words flatly.

"But... that's been an issue for centuries!" Remus said, surprised. Then he stopped and thought about it. "You mean to say that some of the Slytherins are siding in favor of it for a change?"

"There have always been those who have supported the idea, even during the first rise of Voldemort," Severus said. "They just knew to keep their mouths shut and their heads low so as to avoid ridicule or worse at the hands of the very vocal, and often very vindictive Purebloods among their peers." He paused for a moment, and a bare ghost of what might have been a smile touched his lips, and then disappeared. "Just as not all Dark creatures are evil, not all Slytherins are bigots - despite what most people tend to think of us."

"Touche," Remus acknowledged softly, shaking his head. Severus definitely had a point with that one. Remus grimaced at himself, thinking that his own knee-jerk reactions perhaps deserved a bit of revision. "So, why are they so worked up that they are fighting about it, this soon after the war?"

"Backlash," Severus said, shaking his head. "I remember something very like this happening after the first war as well, although with everything that had gone on - plus the fact that I wasn't yet Head of Slytherin - much of it escaped my notice. But now some of the people who secretly supported Voldemort, although not strongly enough to join him openly, are painting themselves as actual champions of the cause of Light, claiming that they had always believed in giving equal chances to Muggleborns and Half bloods, and encouraging their children to 'play nice'" - Severus' lips twisted into a bit of a sneer at that - "and make certain that everyone knows that Mummy and Daddy had never taught them that 'Mudbloods and Muggles' were lower forms of life and had no right to wield a wand. At the same time there are the children in my House of incarcerated Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters, who see me as a traitor and who are just as vocal in stating that their own parents are correct, that they are nobly suffering in prison for trying to do what was right to save all Wizardkind. As is not uncommon, vocal confrontations can quickly and easily escalate to the physical - which is what occurred yesterday evening. Slytherins fighting Slytherins, actually brawling, over whether or not Muggleborns should be allowed to attend Hogwarts."

It was quite alarming, Severus' description of the turmoil in Slytherin. There had been, so far as Remus knew, no incidents like that in any other House, and Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor all supported much more diverse mixtures of students than Slytherin did. Remus knew that by tradition, only Purebloods were sorted into Slytherin. But apparently that wasn't of any help in a situation like this, when it appeared that there was internal strife of a sort that neither Severus nor the Slytherins were used to dealing with. All of the Houses had always clung to their own, Slytherin most of all perhaps. This was indeed a very different situation for them, and probably more than a little concerning for Severus.

"That definitely isn't good," Remus said slowly, inclining his head at Severus. "Is there anything I can do to help? I did notice a few of my students today looking a little bit worse for wear. Should I speak to them?"

Severus regarded Remus seriously, then shook his head. "The reason I am telling you this is to make you aware of a threat. Albus has likewise been informed. You need to be careful, Lupin, very careful. So do all of the teachers here, but I wanted you especially to hear it directly from me, as it concerns the students under my charge."

"Threat?" Remus' hands tightened on his teacup. He didn't like the way Severus said that word, not at all. "What threat, Severus?"

"There is a rumor floating around amongst the Slytherins that someone whose family was hurt by the war, someone who lost their home and their parents, is out for vengeance against the people who caused it. Or should I say the person who caused it," Severus said. His dark eyes flashed for a moment. "We have no proof, and no idea who, nor unfortunately can we merely round up students and question them on the basis of hearsay. But the threat is there, and I know enough of my own House to be perfectly cognizant of the fact that someone might be entirely capable of committing murder, if the motivation was present. To a biased Pureblood who lost home and family in the war, the motivation no doubt would seem more than sufficient."

Nodding, Remus sighed. "I'll be on my guard - as should we all. And careful to listen to any rumors."

"It is more than that," Severus said sharply, leaning across the table and looking at Remus directly. "You don't know everything, Lupin. The rumor is that the one responsible for the loss of home and family was you, Lupin. That you are the one that they want vengeance upon."

"Me?" Remus gasped, blinking in surprise. "But..."

He stopped, memories of the Final Battle washing over him. Harry, and Voldemort, and screams and curses and green flashing all around them in a nightmare scenario. Remus himself had been so focussed on protecting Harry, he had mown down anything and anyone who had approached. He couldn't even remember how many hexes he had thrown, or on whom he had thrown them. There had been death aplenty, but it hadn't touched Remus, not really. He hadn't seen their faces.

He hadn't wanted to.

Numbly, Remus gazed back at Severus. "I... I don't know who. You were there, Severus. There was so much death, so much suffering. I could have killed someone, but... I really don't remember. I had to protect Harry, that was all I could think of doing."

"I know," Severus said, one fine-boned hand coming up, the fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as though he felt a headache coming on. "And it could be just a rumor, the kind of things that students tell each other to rile one another up. Such as the stalker who murders students who go to the Forbidden Forest to engage in a tryst. There is a great deal of pain that has still not been dealt with... and the end of the war did not mean an end to the hatred. No matter what the Ministry might believe."

Severus lowered his hand, and sighed. "Just be on your guard, Lupin. And don't do anything rash. I will find out what I can about how true these rumors are, and inform you and Albus both."

With that, Severus rose, and Remus followed suit. "Thank you, Severus. I do appreciate you telling me yourself."

The Potions Master nodded curtly, as though annoyed by the thanks. "I did it because it was the right thing to do, Lupin. Regardless of how many regard me, I am not without thought or compassion. Either for my students... or for you."

With that, Severus turned on his heal, black robes flaring out behind him as he walked to the door, leaving a stunned and silent - but very hopeful - werewolf staring after him.

An admission of compassion? From Severus, toward himself? That was a depth of feeling Remus had longed for from Severus for years, and had hardly ever thought to experience, much less have Severus come right out and admit.

Suddenly Remus didn't care how many threats there were on his life. Not if it meant that Severus might actually start to care.


	5. Waning Crescent

Waning Crescent

"Make certain not to over water it," Neville said, peering over Remus' shoulder at the delicate stalks of aconite that Remus was attending. "The roots will rot, and that will cause the blossoms to suffer."

"Got it," Remus acknowledged, carefully tipping the watering can over the soil around the lush green plants, watching as the liquid soaked in to the dirt but didn't puddle on the surface. He stopped the flow, raising the can, then rose to face Neville with a smile. "How is that, then? I'd stick my finger in the dirt itself to check, but I don't fancy a burn."

Neville stepped back as Remus straightened up from his bent over position, flushing slightly as though Remus had caught him at something. "No, of c-course not," Neville stammered slightly, before turning himself and pickin up another watering can. "It's fine, that's just right. You go on with those, and I.. I'll do the other side."

"All right." Remus sighed, turning back to the plants he was attending, walking further along the row and carefully watering the base of each of them. He bent over the plants, careful not to come into direct contact with them. They were, after all, wolfsbane, and as such were inherently poisonous to him, although not fatally so unless taken in a massive dose. But they were still capable, especially in their fresh state, of turning his skin an angry red and raising welts on contact.

Remus didn't have to help Neville with the tending of the plants, but he found that he liked doing it. The school grew aconite as a matter of course - it was a useful magical herb, after all - but with Remus' return to teaching and Severus' agreement to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for him each month, a substantially larger number of plants were required. These particular plants especially, which were the special variety Neville had ordered from India specifically for Remus' potion. Feeling guilty about the extra work placed on Neville, as well as feeling as though he needed to have some committment to seeing to his own needs, Remus had volunteered to help Neville in the greenhouses, watering, weeding, and fertilizing the vast array of plants that were necessary for Hogwarts classes, the infirmary, and one very picky, perfectionist Potions Master.

The day was sunny, the light which filtered in through the glass roof bright and cheerful. Remus turned up his face to the beams, smiling slightly at the feeling of warmth, at the rich smell of growing things, at the sheer contentment of a beautiful fall day spent in quiet leisure. He had learned over the years to treasure such happy moments, free as they were of any tricky complications or worries about the future. Instead it was easy to let everything go, to stare up into the impossibly clear blue of the autumn sky, watching as a flock of birds crossed high above, the perfect V of their formation one of those interesting imponderables of nature that struck him each time he saw it.

The birds passed, and Remus closed his eyes, still basking in the sunlight. So different from the cold, silver rays of the moon, so warm and golden and somehow alive. It made Remus feel alive, too, made him feel like dreams were attainable and impossible hopes were waiting just around the corner, ready to be fulfilled. He chuckled happily at that, knowing that he was an impossible optimist sometimes, and that the waning influence of the moon, now approaching new, was giving him an unaccustomed inner quiet and sense of peace.

A small sound broke through his almost trance like state, and Remus opened his eyes, turning curiously in the direction of the door. Neville stood staring at Remus from the next aisle over, and beyond him, framed in the entry, Severus watched, regarding him with hooded eyes and an unreadable expression.

Flushing, Remus shook his head, smiling rather ruefully. "Sorry, I was woolgathering," he said by way of explanation.

"N-not a p-problem," Neville stammered, flushing as well.

"Not surprising," Severus added, smirking slightly. "Gryffindors usually manage to find some way to shirk off work in favor of indolence."

Neville whirled, dropping his watering can with a clatter as he seemed to notice the tall form of the Potions Master for the first time. The metal can rang loudly on the pavers, and Severus' eyes narrowed in seeming dislike as he regarded his former pupil, and a sneer twisted his lips.

"S-s-sorry!" Neville squeaked, bending quickly to pick up the can and turning a rather alarming shade of crimson under the Potions Master's glare. Remus sighed, shaking his head. Neville really needed to get past his seemingly intrinsic fear of Severus.

"I came down here," Severus said, all of his attention focused on the unfortunate Neville, "to discover why the Hellebore for the Draught of Peace for my Fifth Year class today has not yet been delivered. This is, if you can remember that far back, Mr. Longbottom, a potion which must be brewed successfully for the students to be able to pass their OWLs. Certainly you do not wish to be responsible for every Gryffindor in the castle failing their OWLs this year, do you? Especially when you apparently have time to stand around gawping at Professor Lupin, ogling him like some love struck mooncalf?"

"Severus!" Remus gasped, appalled that Severus would say something like that to poor Neville, who had gone from crimson red to deathly white at the accusation. "Neville was not ogling me."

Severus merely raised a brow at Remus in disbelief, then turned his attention back to Neville. "Well, Mr. Longbottom? What do you have to say for yourself? I trust that you realize that your laxness as a student will no longer be acceptable now that you are on Staff. There are certain obligations that we, as Professors, have to one another, and shirking those obligations will, I assure you, lead to your ouster from your position. So, have you an explanation? Or is your mind so small that you can only concentrate on one thing at a time? While watching Lupin's backside might be an utterly fascinating occupation, it is not what you are being paid to do!"

Remus clenched his fists in his hands, fighting down that urge to leap to Neville's defense in the face of Severus' tirade. A rather justifiable tirade, Remus had to admit, if indeed Neville had forgotten to deliver the plants.

Oddly enough, Neville drew himself upright, facing Severus with surprising dignity, the lines of his face firm and his eyes not at all apologetic. It seemed that the insult to his ability to perform his occupation had put strength in Neville in a way that the attack on supposed personal matters did not. "Professor Snape, the hellebore was delivered to your classroom an hour ago, as I promised. Draco signed for it, and I can produce the receipt if you wish. Hellebore is highly poisonous, as you quite well know, and as such must be carefully controlled. You may examine my plants as well, which will show that I harvested the leaves myself only this morning."

Dark eyes narrowed again, and Severus crossed his arms over his chest, staring intimidatingly down at Neville from his superior height. He was silent for several long moments, as though trying to make a decision about whether or not Neville was telling the truth. Given how easy it would be to check - Draco's signature being an easily provable fact - Remus was certain that this was all a rather large, unfortunate misunderstanding. "The hellebore is not in my classroom, and I have not seen Draco. But - for the moment! - I will operate under the assumption that you are telling the truth. Rest assured, however, if I discover that you have lying, I will have you sacked. At once."

Nodding with what Remus considered to be a great deal of aplomb, Neville clutched the empty watering can, then turned and walked off to the other end of the greenhouse to refill it, as though what Severus thought or did from that point was of no concern to him.

Go, Neville, Remus thought silently to himself, proud of the way that Neville had stood up to Severus. His feelings for the Potions Master quite aside, Remus was very well aware that Severus had did not suffer weaklings gladly, and that refusing to back down was usually the best way of dealing with Severus when he got on a roll.

Glancing back at Severus, Remus found the dark eyes now on him, but he wasn't bothered by the scrutiny. Instead he smiled slightly. "Well, Neville has come a way from the young man who once had you as the boggart in his closet," he said quietly. "They all have to grow up sometime."

"Grow up?" Severus said, sneering. "Longbottom may have finally developed a spine, but I see that he has no more sense now than he did at the age of eleven, when he unfortunately entered my previously peaceful existence. He has been a thorn in my side from day one, and he continues to be one." Severus paused, giving Remus a surprisingly intense look. "He's just finding new ways of annoying me, ones that are even greater than blowing up cauldrons in my classroom."

"I'm certain that the hellebore was all just a misunderstanding," Remus said hastily. "Draco may have locked it away for safe keeping and forgotten to tell you. Really, Severus, what does Neville have to gain by annoying you, especially in so blatant a manner?"

"The satisfaction of annoying me is probably sufficient in and of itself," Severus snarled. "And trust you to leap to his defense!"

"I was not leaping to his defense," Remus responded, keeping his voice low and even. "I was merely attempting to find a reasonable explanation. He's still young, Severus, and he will undoubtedly make plenty of mistakes that really will tick you off without having to go deliberately manufacturing them." Sighing, Remus shook his head. "He's had a hard life, Severus. Not as hard as yours, I admit, but hard. I think someone needs to give him a little bit of a break."

"Are you so anxious to give him a 'break', Lupin? I saw the way he way looking at you. No doubt you like the fact that he's giving you positively lustful glances!" Severus' mouth turned down in a ferocious frown.

"Severus!" Remus gaped at the dark-haired wizard. "Believe me, Neville doesn't lust after me! And even if he did, I definitely don't think of him in any way like that!"

Severus raised a brow, dark eyes becoming intense as they seemed to look through Remus. After a moment the regard became less penetrating, and something in Severus' demeanor relaxed ever so slightly. "Well, be that as it may, I still neither like nor trust him. Perhaps if he had been the fumbling dunderhead in your class that he was in mine your opinion would be a bit different. After sixty three melted cauldrons - a record, you understand, that fortunately no one has ever come class to matching - my view of him is hardly favorable."

Remus found himself chuckling, shaking his head slightly at the aggrieved tone of Severus' voice. "He was your one failure, I suppose? The only one who never seemed to benefit from that vast storehouse of knowledge you have locked away in that brilliant head of yours, eh, Severus?"

An elegant snort escaped Severus' lips. "Even Crabbe and Goyle, who between them have approximately the intelligence level of your average chair, did not manage to wreak the havoc in my classroom that Longbottom did."

"Well, at least he grew up to make something of himself," Remus replied, casting a glance in Neville's direction. The younger wizard had refilled his watering can, and was going about his business, watering the plants with his spine stiffly erect. "Can't you give him a little bit of a break, Severus? He killed Bellatrix, after all. I think he's more than earned it."

Once again Severus glared, although this time it seemed more from the force of habit than anything else. "Yes, yes, he is a bloody hero," Severus said sourly. "Fine, Lupin. I shall give him a 'little bit of a break', as you so succinctly put it. But I warn you - and him - that if he annoys me or fails to deliver in the future, or if Merlin forbid I find out he was lying about the hellebore, I really will do everything in my power to make certain that Albus puts his feet on the road."

"Of course, Severus." Remus was actually quite relieved at the grudging concession. He smiled slightly, then, and then neatly changed the subject. "Our last chess game ended in a draw. What do you say to a rematch? I also recieved a very fine bottle of cognac from Bill Weasley today, direct from France - although it's a wonder Fleur is letting him send owls while on their honeymoon. At any rate, I would love to share it with someone who has a refined palate and an appreciation for the niceties."

Severus seemed to consider the invitation for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Remus thought he saw the dark eyes glance in Neville's direction, and wondered if Severus were embarrassed that Remus had issued the invitation in front of the younger wizard. A question which was answered in short order, when Severus spoke, and in a slightly louder than necessary voice.

"I would be delighted to give you a rematch, Lupin," he drawled, a slight smirk touching his lips. "And the cognac sounds delightful. I doubt you will find anyone at this school, other than myself, who has the proper respect for a decent vintage. Eight o'clock, then? Shall I come to your quarters this time? That would be more private than my office, and would avoid things like the very unfortunate interruption which occurred last time. Remarkably bad timing, was it not?"

Remus blinked. Was Severus actually flirting with him, here of all places? Or was it a show purely for Neville's benefit, in retaliation for the supposed ogling? Just how far was Severus willing to go in order to twit Neville?

"Very bad," Remus replied slowly, eyes narrowing in speculation. Severus was up to something, there was no doubt about it. But unfortunately Remus didn't know exactly was going on in Severus' devious mind, but he knew it wasn't anything good, at least not as far as Neville was concerned. Perhaps it was time for just a little bit of payback, in order to let Severus know that Remus wasn't going to allow himself to be used purely as a tool for Severus' unremitting torture of Neville. "I assume you are looking forward to taking back up our interaction where we left off?"

Severus' eyes gleamed, as though he realized what Remus was up to. "Very much so," he replied silkily, with another swift glance in Neville's direction.

"Very well, tonight at eight, then," Remus said.

With a nod, Severus turned to depart. Then he glanced back over his shoulder. "And he was ogling you," he said, then turned once again to leave.

"No he wasn't," Remus said smartly. Then a mischievous thought occurred to him, and he smiled wickedly and added in a low voice, "But I certainly wouldn't mind if someone else did."

Severus continued to walk away, seeming to ignore the comment; but Remus had the satisfaction of seeing Severus' steps falter for a brief moment, before the Potions Master continued smoothly on his way.

\---

There was no way Remus was going to survive another hour.

Looking up at the clock for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes, Remus sighed and finally laid aside the book he had been trying to read. He was too eager for Severus to arrive for the promised chess game, too wound up and excited about the way that their relationship had seemed to progress from tolerance, to friendship, to what appeared to be an outright flirtation in very short order. It was more than he could have hoped for when he had decided to return, and Remus thrilled, eager with anticipation for them to take up where they had left off.

Dinner had been rather maddening, what with the constant urge he had to glance over at Severus, to try to find out if Severus were looking back at him, giving him a sidelong gaze from those intense dark eyes, signalling that he was an anxious as Remus to take up where they had left off. Remus had chided himself for behaving as though he were fifteen again, with the entire 'Does he like, me, or does he like me?' litany that went along with it. It was stupid, he knew, for a man who was nearly forty to be behaving like a besotted teenager, but Remus couldn't help it. He was feeling rather like a besotted teenager, with that same, eager curl of tingling awareness one felt because of the unknown but dearly longed for potential hanging in the air, thick enough to taste.

Once or twice Remus was nearly certain that he had caught the tail-end of a look from Severus, but he had always moved his own gaze away, lest Severus get annoyed at him for being too obvious out in public - although after the little display in front of Neville today, perhaps Severus wanted that? Exactly what did Severus want? It was enough to drive Remus almost mad while he waited.

He had to do something, or else he just might pounce on Severus when Severus finally arrived, and that really wouldn't do at all. It was only just past seven o'clock; perhaps a quick walk in the cool autumn air would clear his head, allow him to burn off some of the adrenalin that caused a restless yearning to pulse through his blood.

Rising from his chair, Remus crossed to the door, retrieving his outer garments from a hook next to it. Now that he had income again, he had indulged in a lovely set of deep, midnight blue wool robes with pewter fastenings, ones that were well fitted and whose color looked rather nice with his hair and eyes. Remus was hardly vain, knowing well that he looked more scholarly than handsome, but it was still quite nice for once to know that he didn't have to look any longer like someone's tweedy, destitute uncle, with faded and patched clothing and worn out shoes.

Robes suitably donned, Remus left his room, carefully locking and warding the door behind him. He still didn't believe that the possible threat on his life was terribly serious, but there was no sense at all in taking foolish, unnecessary risks.

It took but a few minutes at a brisk pace to reach the nearest door outside, which placed him not too far from the Forbidden Forest. Remus nodded a polite greeting to the students he passed in the hallway, most of whom where more intent upon reaching their own destinations than speaking to their Professor. Which didn't both Remus at all.

The early fall evening was cool, the sunlight beginning to fade from the sky, a profusion of pinks and gold and deep, azure blue painting the clouds which had gathered on the western horizon, skirting the tops of the mountains and casting long shadows on the snow which whitened the highest of the granite peaks. The grass of the manicured lawn was still lush and green, and would remain so until covered with snow itself, although a few colorful, dying leaves now dotted the immaculate expanse, doing a dance in the light breeze which rattled their brethren which still clung tenaciously to the branches of the nearby trees.

A turn about the castle, then, should eat up the necessary time and the excess energy, and Remus set off quickly, turning west, away from the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. He could see the Quidditch Pitch in the distance, the towers and rings rising against the sky. The first match was due to be played the following week, and Remus knew that the excitement among the students was rising as they awaited the start of their favorite sport. Not that Remus himself cared much for the game, really. He had always settled for reading quietly while Sirius and James played and Peter shouted himself hoarse encouraging them. A fact which had earned him more than a few thumps from his Quidditch-mad friends, in a time long past when his lycanthropy had still been a secret and his obsession with Severus had only just begun to bloom.

Severus hadn't changed too terribly much since their youth. He was still tall and thin and angular, still pale and sallow and - for the most part - rather ill tempered. The frown line between his eyes had deepened, but it had always been there between those dark eyes, just as the Darkness which touched Severus' soul had been evident even in his youth. A Darkness, Remus knew, which echoed the Darkness within himself, and which had given birth to the attraction Remus had felt for Severus ever since. Remus knew that deep down they were far more alike than their exteriors would suggest. Remus knew Darkness, and he thought he had a pretty clear idea of the things that Severus had been through, could well imagine the ways that Severus had suffered for his decisions the way that Remus suffered for his lycanthropy. There were a few times over the long course of their acquaintance that Remus could remember looking at Severus, meeting those fathomless black eyes and feeling a fleeting but definite instance of connection, a recognition of a kindred soul. He had often yearned to explore that connection, but fate had seemed to decree that he be balked at every turn, but either unfortunate circumstances, lingering hostility, or even blatant outside interference. Hopefully, though, those days were past, and the rapport they had developed over their chess games could now develop naturally into something more. Far more, if Remus had anything to say about it.

His footsteps and the accompanying thoughts soon brought Remus to the Pitch, and he circled around it somewhat aimlessly, the high walls obscuring the castle from his view. It was very quiet out here, far away from the faint noises of the castle, and Remus moved slowly, enjoying the sense of privacy. He stopped for a moment near one of the towers, facing the distant mountains, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths. Out here, it was easy to imagine that Severus would eventually come to share Remus' feelings, that they...

"It was dangerous to meet here - you could have been seen! What were you thinking?" Severus' voice said, and startled, Remus opened his eyes, wondering when Severus had crept up on him, unaware. He looked about, thinking to answer the question - primarily by asking what in the world Severus meant by it - when he realized Severus was no where in sight.

Frowning, Remus was about to explore further, to find out what was going on, when another voice answered Severus' question.

Draco's voice.

"It's perfectly safe," Draco said insistently. "No one will see..."

The voices came from just around the corner of the tower, Remus realized with a jolt. He knew that he should leave, or else declare his presence, since it was undoubtedly supposed to be a private conversation. But he couldn't drag himself away, as curiosity and guilt warred within him, wondering precisely what Severus and his own apprentice had to come all the way out to the Quidditch Pitch to talk about.

There was the unmistakable sound of Severus snorting derisively. "If you believe that anywhere in this castle, or on the grounds, is perfectly safe, Draco, then you are far more of a fool than I would ever have believed possible for one of your upbringing. Between animagi and invisibility cloaks and sheer sneakiness, I would have thought that you of all people would know better! But perhaps I should have known better, to expect something as ridiculous as rational thought when the hormones of nineteen year olds are involved."

Hormones? Remus thought, feeling a sick curl in his stomach. So, was it true? Was there something going on between Severus and Draco after all? Why, then, was Severus spending his evenings in Remus' company? Unless there was something else going on entirely. Something that was a bit more sinister than Remus would like to believe.

Draco sighed, and Remus could almost picture the scowl on his pale, pointed face. "You don't seem to have any lack in the hormone department, Severus," Draco shot back.

There was a pause. What was Severus thinking about that? Was he angry for Draco making a personal observation which would, Remus thought, be none of the younger man's business, or smirking because the observation in question regarded Draco himself?

"That is neither here nor there," came the response, drawled in Severus' velvet tones. "And I do not have time right now to discuss any of this, I am expected elsewhere shortly."

"Lupin." It was not a question, and Remus stiffened to hear his name spat as an epithet.

"Yes," Severus responded coolly. "Lupin."

"I don't see why..." Draco began, then halted abruptly. Remus imagined that Severus must have shot Draco a quelling look. "Er... well. Right. No time. I understand."

"Did you locate the missing hellebore yet?" Severus asked, apparently dismissing Draco's small gaff, or at least letting it go for the moment and changing the subject.

Silence for a long moment. "No," Draco said finally, voice flat. "Whoever took it was damnably clever. Probably a Slytherin."

"Find it," Severus ordered, tone stern. "And bring the transgressor to me. I will deal with whoever it is personally, and in a way they will not like one bit."

"Yes, Severus," Draco said.

"And Draco... be more careful in the future." There was warning in Severus' tone, but also... affection? What in the world was going on here? Was Remus overhearing an aborted tryst, or merely a professor talking to his well-liked apprentice? And what was Draco to be more careful about - merely the handling of potion ingredients.

"I will."

Remus heard the faint sound of footsteps receding, and he waited until the silence descended again before risking a glance around the corner of the tower. He could see Severus walking off back towards the school, dark robes billowing behind him as he moved. Of Draco, however, there was no sign. Where had the younger wizard gone?

Frowning, Remus contemplated the conversation again. It made no sense at all to him. There was definitely something more going on between Severus and Draco than met the eye, something that Severus himself had referred to as "dangerous" to be seen. But was it a relationship, or was Severus covering for Draco for some reason? And if that were the case, what could Draco be doing that would possibly have Severus covering up for him?

The sun was headed down, and Remus realized that he needed to hurry, in order to meet Severus at eight. The pleasant anticipation he had felt for the evening was now all but gone, blown away in the face of this unsettling experience. Moving quickly back toward the castle, Remus sighed, disturbed and unhappy, but also resolute. He wasn't going to give up on Severus that easily, Draco or no Draco.

Remus didn't know what was going on, but he was determined to find out.

\---

"Remus made it back to his quarters with several minutes to spare, minutes which he used to try to focus and calm himself from the disconcerting conversation he had overheard between Severus and Draco at the Quidditch Pitch. He wanted nothing more than to sit down and try to analyze what it all meant, to determine if there were actually hidden layers and meanings to the words that he was just not getting, but there was not nearly enough time for something like that. Severus would be arriving at his quarters very soon, and Remus needed to act as though nothing at all untoward had happened - at least not until he was in a position to question Severus subtly, which was a very difficult proposition even in the best of circumstances.

Fortunately as it turned out, Remus had set up the chess board, arranged the pieces, and had brought out two glasses and the bottle of cognac earlier, during the fidgety time after dinner. He had carefully placed his two most comfortable chairs on either side of the board as well, which meant that everything was ready. So Remus spent the extra time brewing himself a cup of strong tea, the familiar motions relaxing him as he boiled and measured and steeped and stirred. Remus was no Occlumens, but he did have a fair amount of control and very good masks, when he chose to use them; and tonight definitely seemed like the time to bring them out once more.

A decisive, unmistakable knock at the door came precisely at eight, and found Remus fairly well centered, although he thought that his cheeks might be faintly flushed; either that, or it was unusually warm in his quarters and he hadn't noticed until now. Downing the rest of the tea quickly, Remus grimaced at the fact that he must have brewed it far too strong, for it was unusually bitter. He then placed the cup in the sink and risked a swift, inquiring glance down at the leaves in the pale ceramic bottom, as though looking for an answer. Yet as always they merely appeared as nothing more than a random jumble to him, with no deeper meaning hidden in their dark, soggy depths. It was really too bad, in a way - he would have liked a small indication of how the evening was going to go.

As he had quite expected, Severus stood on the other side of the door, face set in studied lines of serenity as Remus opened it. Remus couldn't help gazing quickly down the length of Severus' tall body, an attractive sight that Remus suddenly wanted to keep admiring.

"Good evening, Severus," Remus greeted him, blinking a bit as he looked up into Severus' face and forcing himself to speak. Severus looked cool and calm as usual, which made Remus suddenly feel unaccountably flustered. Where had his centering gone?

"Lupin," Severus greeted him, his black eyes narrowing slightly as though he noticed something amiss. There was also a bit of a gleam in the dark depths, one that Remus couldn't read. Was it suspicion, perhaps? Or was it something else entirely? Remus wished he could concentrate well enough to determine which it was, because he really desperately wanted to know where he stood. Who was Severus interested in - Draco, or Remus?

Stepping back from the door, he motioned Severus inside. "Er... please come in. I've set up for our game, and you can help yourself to the cognac, it's there with the glasses by the board. Excuse me for a moment, would you please? I need to check something in the kitchen."

Remus felt Severus' eyes on his back as he moved to the kitchen once more, feeling flustered. Oh, this would not do. What was wrong with him? So he had overheard a conversation, but it was quite by accident. Severus might be annoyed if he found out, but surely he couldn't be angry even if he did. Remus hadn't gone spying, it had just happened. A complete coincidence, and quite out of Remus' control.

From the sitting room there were sounds of Severus' robes rustling slightly as Severus moved to the chess board, and Remus heard a chair pulled out, then a soft sigh as Severus settled into it, as though Severus were either tired or perhaps even relaxed. The clink of a glass, followed by the soft, liquid sound of Severus pouring the cognac... and Remus knew he had better get himself together before Severus realized something was wrong, and either called out or came to look for Remus. Taking a deep breath and wiping at his suddenly damp brow, Remus pasted a bright, social smile on his face and walked back into the sitting room to face his visitor.

"There, no problem, no problem at all," he said brightly, sliding into the chair on the opposite side of the board and facing Severus, although for some reason he couldn't quite meet Severus' eyes. "I thought I had forgotten to turn off the tea pot, and I wanted to check before we started to play. Wouldn't want it to boil dry, after all. How is the cognac? Excellent, don't you think? I must ask Bill to send another bottle before he leaves France."

Severus' gaze was intent on Remus' face, and he was frowning slightly, his brow creased with what looked to be genuine concern. "Lupin, are you well? You appear quite flushed, and you are... babbling."

"Do I? Am I?" Remus asked, blinking with what he hoped was innocence. "It feels rather warm in here. I might should open a window, don't you think? Are you overheated too, Severus? Perhaps Albus has turned on the warming charms for the castle, now that autumn is well and truly here."

Jumping back up to his feet, Remus crossed to the window, throwing it open and standing in the draught of cool air that blew in, feeling chilly on the damp skin of his cheeks and forehead. He really did feel too warm, and it was making him feel rather woozy in the bargain. He chuckled to himself. Was he that far gone over Severus that Severus' presence in his quarters was making him flushed and giddy? How ridiculous was that?

Turning back quickly, Remus grinned at Severus, the rapid motion making his head spin dizzily.

"Lupin," Severus said, rising to his feet. "Merlin, man... are you drunk already?" There was an expression on Severus' face that looked almost like amusement. Why would he find it amusing if Remus were drunk?

"A little Dutch courage, perhaps?" Severus asked silkily, raising a brow. Remus could have sworn that the smirk on Severus' lips was more than a little smug.

"Are you reading my mind?" Remus demanded, staring up at Severus indignantly. Come to think of it, he felt somewhat as though he were drunk, with the same giddy, woozy feeling he got when he had had just a bit too much. Not smashed, but pleasantly blurred. But he hadn't had a drop of anything other than tea!

"No, I am not reading your mind," Severus said, shaking his head. "You asked me why I would find it amusing if you were drunk - I merely answered the question."

"I see," Remus replied, frowning in confusion. He must have spoken aloud, although he couldn't remember doing it. Dutch courage, though? Why on earth would Severus think that he needed alcohol to boost his courage for a chess game? After all, it certainly wasn't as though Remus were going to go blurting out how he felt about Severus tonight. No, it wasn't nearly time for that. If Remus told Severus that he was in love with him, that would no doubt scare Severus away quite quickly. He would no doubt go running back to his dungeons and never want to see Remus again. Severus needed to be wooed, slowly but steadily, so that he could get used to the idea of Remus as a lover gradually. Otherwise everything would blow up like it had before, and Remus would be left alone again. He couldn't risk it, no matter how much he wanted to say the words. He couldn't lose Severus a third time.

Remus swayed on his feet. "Not drunk," he said, knowing that there was something very, very wrong about the way that he was feeling, although he couldn't seem to summon up the energy required to really be worried about it. In fact, he didn't feel worried about much of anything. Calmness descended over him, numbing everything as Remus gazed up at Severus, wondering when Severus' hands hand come up and caught him by the shoulders.

"Lupin?" Severus repeated, shaking him slightly, which made Remus' head snap back on his neck rather painfully - but he didn't worry about that, either. "Lupin, what in the name of Merlin is the matter with you? What did you have to drink? Was it the cognac?"

"Tea, just tea," Remus sighed, his eyes now wanting very badly to drift closed. Yes, he needed to sleep. Perhaps everything would seem clearer in the morning. Nice, peaceful sleep, with no dreams. Although dreaming about Severus would be fine, really. He'd had very pleasant dreams about Severus for years.

Another shake, this one sharper, and Remus opened his eyes to gaze at Severus blearily.

"Did you have anything besides the tea, Lupin? How long ago did you have the tea?" Was it Remus' imagination, or did Severus actually look quite worried? There was an edge to Severus' voice as well, as though the deep tones had risen slightly in something that might actually resemble fear. But that was absolutely ridiculous. What was there to be afraid of - as if Severus were afraid of anything to begin with.

"Nothing else," Remus sighed, summoning up a small, weary smile of reassurance. "Don't worry, Severus... I'm fine. Just tired."

"Lupin, do not dare go to sleep!" Severus barked sharply, and Remus tried hard, very hard, to do what Severus asked. After all, he would do anything Severus asked - he just hoped that eventually Severus' requests would proceed from "don't go to sleep" to "come sleep with me." All in good time, of course.

"Tired," Remus said apologetically. Severus' face was beginning to fade out above him, and Remus fancied he saw the worry written on Severus' pale visage progress to horror, and then outright fear. Remus felt warm, so very warm, lying on the floor, pillowed on Severus' legs with no memory of how he possibly could have gotten there. Not that it mattered. He would think about it tomorrow. "Talk to you tomorrow, Sev'rus..."

Darkness took him down in calm, comforting arms that felt very much like Severus', while Remus thought Severus himself was bending down over him, yelling words that Remus could no longer hear.


	6. New Moon

New Moon

It was warm, and dark, and very peaceful, and Remus thought that if this were death, it really wasn't so bad after all. It didn't hurt - he had always expected death to hurt, and was quite surprised to find that it didn't.

He couldn't see anything, or feel anything, or taste or smell anything at all, not even himself as he drifted in the utter blackness. Somehow, though, he wasn't worried, feeling an odd, almost numb sort of detachment that vaguely puzzled but did not concern him overly much. Remus wasn't in pain, and he was at peace - it was more than he had actually ever expected from the After Life.

After a time, however, he began to hear voices, distantly at first, and distorted as though they were coming from under water, or spoken through a very long, narrow tube. He couldn't make out the individual words, couldn't understand what was being said, but he found himself listening hard, trying to discern who the phantom speakers were, and what they were attempting to tell him.

Gradually the voices grew closer, and they finally became clear enough that he could pick out individual words, although they still didn't make much sense to him. His thought processes were slow and sluggish, and the voices faded in and out almost at random, mumbling incoherent nonsense.

"...poison... tea. Unknown..."

"...hours... days... weeks... no idea how long."

"...his werewolf metabolism... saved him... anyone else, dead..."

"...guard. Around the clock. No one sees him..."

The voices disappeared altogether for a very long time, but when they finally returned once more they were clear enough that Remus thought he could identify the individual people speaking.

"He's hanging on, and Poppy says he's not in pain, so we just have to wait and see." Albus... surely that was Albus' voice? The tone of the Headmaster's voice was far more serious, however, than anything Remus had heard since the end of the war. Remus wanted to tell Albus not to worry, that he was at peace, but of course he couldn't feel his mouth to form the words.

"There is no antidote." Severus. Those dark tones surely had to belong to Severus. "I have tried everything I know, Albus, but with his lycanthropy some things are just as likely to kill him as to cure him."

Was that worry in Severus' voice? Why would Severus be worried about him? But if Severus was worried... that must mean that Remus wasn't dead. Not yet, at any rate.

That realization didn't solve his problems one bit, or help him to overcome the disconnection between his mind, which seemed somewhat more aware, and his body, which he still could not feel at all. He also still felt an odd lethargy as well, felt an urge to give up and give in and let the darkness draw him down forever. Would it really be so bad, after all? No more pain, no more worry. No more doubt. No more wondering what Severus really felt for him, if anything at all.

"We're trying, Harry." Albus' voice came once more, his tones sounding reassuring. "All we can do it wait."

Then Harry was speaking, low and soft and urgently. "Remus... fight it. You can't leave us, Remus. The last Marauder can't die. You just can't. I need you, Dumbledore needs you. We all need you. Come back, okay?"

Remus wanted to tell Harry that he was trying, he really was, and that he really didn't want to die, but that he just couldn't seem to find his way out. And it so was peaceful here, so calm. It was very easy to sink into the blackness and let it surround him and shield him from all his cares.

"Lupin." That was Severus again, after another long spell of quiet during which Remus wondered once again if he had finally succumbed to whatever was apparently killing him. He latched on to Severus' voice, following it through the inky blackness around him. Black like Severus' hair. Black like Severus' eyes. Severus would be quite at home in this darkness, no doubt - which was probably why he could follow Remus here, why Severus' voice sounded clearer than any other. Severus was a creature of Darkness, just as Remus himself was.

"Lupin. You have to listen to me. I know you can hear me, wherever you are in there. You must not let this defeat you. You are stronger than this. You are fighting hellebore poisoning. Hellebore lulls you into a feeling of peace, takes away your pain and worries. If you do not fight it, you will be like this forever. You have to fight it to come back."

Remus could make no response to that. He was growing more and more tired, weary of even trying anymore. So much better to rest, to stay in the darkness. Perhaps one day Severus would join him here.

There was a pause, and then Severus' tone grew more irritated. "You are shirking your responsibilities again, Lupin! Playing the victim. The poor little werewolf, everyone feels sorry for you. You are not going to get off this easy, damn you! Are you going to let something like this defeat you? Lupin the Martyr, is that the way you want it. Damn you, fight it! Come out of there!"

Severus sounded outright angry now, not a terribly unusual way for him to sound. His tone was scathing, harsh and contemptuous as it had ever been in the bad old days, as though he were trying to goad Remus into a fight. But what was there to fight for? Didn't Severus have Draco? Why would he want Remus to stay, in that case? It was too much for Remus to process. He couldn't think clearly enough, all he knew was that nothing really seemed to have changed at all. Better to stay where he was. Much better.

There was a sharp, loud sound, and something else finally reached Remus through the enveloping darkness. A brief, fleeting flair of pain, sudden and surprising that caused a white flash to briefly illuminate the blackness, before fading away to grey, then finally to the black once more. Was that his body experiencing the pain? And if so, what was causing it? What could reach him here?

"Damn you, Lupin!" Another sound, another flash of that pain again, still distant and muffled, but definitely there. Severus must be causing it, although what he was doing Remus couldn't fathom. Remus wanted to ask what Severus was doing, why Severus was hurting him. What purpose did it serve?

More pain. This time the flash was red instead of white, and it took longer to fade. "Lupin, you come back, you are not getting away this easily!"

Again the pain, and Remus thought that Severus might be slapping his facing, the sharp sound he was hearing the crack of Severus' palm against his cheek. Still Severus continued to berate him, belittle him, and hit him, and Remus couldn't do anything to stop him. "Fight me, damn you!" Slap. "You are a big, strong scary monster! You are a werewolf!" Slap! Are you going to let a little poison destroy you? Where are your guts?" SLAP!

The pain grew sharper and more insistent. Remus heard other voices, but they were secondary to the fire burning on his skin, skin which he was beginning to feel once more.

"Severus! What on earth are you doing!" Poppy cried out, her voice full of distress.

"Leave me alone, woman," Remus heard Severus snarl in reply, before another bright burst of pain rocked his world. "He is in there. He can hear me, I know he can. He has fought me his entire life, and I am not going to sit by and let him stop fighting me now!"

The next blow that fell was even harder, and Remus thought he could feel his head rock to one side, following the direction of the slap.

"Severus, don't! I'll hex you if I must, but you cannot beat a comatose man!" Poppy was beginning to sound angry.

"Leave us alone!" Severus snapped back. Another slap, and this time Remus could tell it was backhanded, could actually tell that his head turned and his body jerked in reaction to the hit. "I am saving him, you imbecile!"

SLAP!!!

"Immobulus!"

The blows stopped, and Remus felt, actually felt Severus' hand, resting against his cheek where Poppy's hex had stopped it. Opening his eyes, squinting against the sudden, painful flare of light against his dark-adapted eyes, Remus looked up into Severus' face, his furious expression frozen above as he leaned down over Remus' bed. And even though there was anger on Severus' features, Remus saw his dark eyes widen slightly in surprise as their gazes met, as Severus realized that Remus was actually awake and looking at him.

"Honestly, Severus Snape, I cannot believe that even you would be so cruel as to do something like this!" Poppy was in a right temper, her face flushed as she stalked over to the side of the bed, apparently intent upon tearing Severus a new orifice of some sort. Remus caught her out of his peripheral vision, but he didn't look away from Severus, didn't break the contact of their eyes as Remus sighed slightly, leaning his head just slightly to one side so that his cheek - his burning, aching, but mercifully feeling cheek - pressed into the warm skin of Severus' palm.

"S'okay, Poppy," Remus said, his voice little more than a dry, aching whisper. It was enough, however, to freeze Poppy in place, her eyes widening with shock. "He was right. He woke me up, made me fight it. I'm fine. Everything is fine."

Looking up into Severus' eyes, Remus saw a flash of something that he couldn't interpret, and it was gone far too quickly for him to be certain of what it could mean. But then he definitely read smug satisfaction in those dark depths, and thought he saw Severus' eyes flicker briefly to where his immobile hand still rested on Remus' cheek.

There was still quite a bit to be worked out, much to be discussed, and Remus needed to find out precisely what had occurred. Perhaps everything wasn't really fine in the greater sense, considering everything that had happened; but, for the moment, looking up into Severus' eyes, Remus was more than willing to settle for what was at hand.

\---

"Remus, it is good to see you awake, dear boy," Dumbledore said, as he crossed the infirmary and headed towards Remus' bed. Remus' eyes widened as he gazed at the Headmaster, who was dressed in robes of an exceptionally bright blue, with gold stars embroidered all over the fabric. It was bright and garish, and Remus smiled, thinking that if Severus hadn't managed to wake him with the pummeling, no doubt the loudness of Albus' robes would have been nearly as effective.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Remus said, placing the book he had been reading on the table beside his bed. He had regained consciousness several hours before, but Poppy Pomfrey was being incredibly fussy about letting him go. She claimed he needed to stay overnight, just so that she could monitor him and make certain he didn't relapse into a coma. Especially after the - in her words - 'highly unorthodox' way that Severus had brought him out of it.

Severus had not lingered long after Remus had woken, having given Poppy a snarling comeback for 'interfering' in his treatment of Remus. Severus had produced a book, waving it under the mediwitch's nose and claiming that he had found that 'gross overstimulation' of the pain reflex was an effective counteragent for Hellebore poisoning in werewolves. Which was so obscure a piece of information that Poppy had dared to give Severus a hmphf and a skeptical look, before snatching the book from the Potions Master's hand and proceeding to check for herself.

Remus had merely smiled, happy to be awake once more, and amused by the byplay between the two competing professionals. Not that Severus, as a Potions Master, was exactly qualified to go administering bizarre treatments to Poppy's patients, but there was no denying that it had worked very effectively.

Severus had drawn himself up stiffly to his full height, glaring down the length of his nose at Poppy. Then he had turned to Remus, raising a brow. With a disdainful, "It was about time you stopped lying about like a useless lump," Severus had whirled and departed the infirmary with a billow of his black robes - but Remus thought he saw that look again in Severus' eyes, although he still wasn't certain what it meant.

That, apparently, had been that as far as Severus was concerned, and Remus was left wondering exactly what was going on in Severus' mind. That, of course, was a mystery for the ages, and Remus decided it was too soon after regaining consciousness to tax his brain quite that much. He had found several books on the table by his bed, presumably left by his visitors and well wishers during his coma. A coma which, according to Poppy, had lasted three long days.

And now here was Albus, beaming at him, eyes twinkling in the way that only Dumbledore's could. The Headmaster sank down into a seat next to Remus' bed, and reached out to pat Remus' hand where it lay on top of the coverlet.

"We are all most relieved," Albus said, running his fingers over his long beard in a thoughtful gesture. "It was touch and go there for a bit, I understand. Your metabolism is apparently all that kept you from dying outright, but it couldn't bring you back from the coma. I understand Severus' unorthodox treatment offended Poppy so much that she hexed him."

Remus smiled and nodded. "She was rather upset. Claims that the bruises will take ages to fade, but I am definitely not complaining. Severus saved me, and that's well worth getting smacked about for."

"Indeed," Albus replied. The twinkle in his eye faded a bit, as did his smile. "As happy as we are that you are back, my dear boy, you understand we still have a rather nasty situation to address. Namely, finding the identity of who did this to you. Have you any idea at all?"

With a sinking feeling, Remus sighed. It was very hard to face the rather brutal, obvious fact that someone in the school hated him enough to wish him dead, and was talented enough to actually have nearly succeeded. Still, Albus was correct, and Remus was well aware that until the perpetrator was caught, that he was still quite likely in danger.

"No, I don't," Remus murmured, shaking his head. "I know that the threat is there from the Slytherins because of what Severus told me, but... I just don't know, Albus. I don't remember killing anyone during the Final Battle. Maybe the person in question thinks I'm responsible, but has it wrong. It could be a mistake."

"Remus," Dumbledore began, then paused, giving Remus a very serious look. "You really need to stop running from what happened at the end of the war. You need to face up to it, deal with it... your life, dear boy, might depend on it."

"I have dealt with it," Remus insisted. He found that he couldn't meet Dumbledore's eyes, though, and he sighed. "Albus, so much happened. There is no way of knowing who, or when... Really, I don't think it would help. And I..." His voice trailed off, and the gaze he gave Dumbledore was extremely troubled. "I don't want to know. As long as I don't know, Albus, then I can live with myself, believe that I am not a monster, or a killer. I... You probably think I'm a coward, Albus. But I have spent so much of my life trying to live with what is inside of me, that knowing I really might have taken lives - even to a good cause - is just more than I can bear."

"You aren't a coward," Dumbledore replied. "But to not do it, to ignore it, means that whoever poisoned you might be free to strike again. I can't place all of Slytherin House under watch, and with the unsettled relations even among themselves, it might truly set things off to go in making accusations with no proof. Whoever poisoned you left no discernible traces in your quarters, and it has me quite worried. Remus... not dealing with it might mean your own death."

Remus pondered that, knowing that Dumbledore was correct. But it was asking so much for him to face those memories, to face what he had done, what he had had to do. What if... what if he liked killing? What if the wolf within watched the faces of the slain and felt no remorse at all? Did Remus want to live with that for the rest of his life?

"There must be another way," Remus said unhappily. "I'll check my quarters as well, when Poppy lets me out of here. Maybe I will find some clue. And I teach every student in this school, you know - perhaps I can spot something in class, something that will give the perpetrator away." Remus stopped, considering for a moment, wanting to bring up something that was bothering him, but not certain how to do it.

Everything was so complicated. But Albus was exceptionally intelligent, and surely had already thought of it himself. "Albus... I hate to say this, but... what about Draco? I hate to bring this up after Severus saved me, but... he's been giving me the evil eye, so to speak, ever since I returned to the school. He signed for the hellebore that went missing, I heard Neville tell Severus. You don't think that he might have... had something to do with it?"

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened until they seemed to pierce straight through Remus. "Mr. Malfoy. A very, very difficult subject, you know. We owe him a great deal indeed, for the information he provided at the end of the war. In many, many ways he reminds me of Severus at that same age, and he wound up in very nearly the same position, as well. It was only Severus' intervention that saved him from taking the Dark Mark. I truly hesitate to accuse him of anything based on evidence that is circumstantial at best. And you are right in your thought that Severus would be upset. Extremely upset."

"I know." Remus felt an inner turmoil, but he understood Albus' position. There was no proof, not yet... and the only real clues seemed to reside in memories that Remus was completely unwilling to face at the moment. He raised a hand to rub his suddenly aching head, feeling mentally drained by the conundrum. "Let me think about it, Albus. I just... I really need to think. Then I'll decide."

"Of course," Dumbledore replied, rising to his feet. He patted Remus' hand again, giving him another smile. "Just don't take too long about it, Remus. Whoever is out after you has proven rather resourceful so far. Your best move might be to stay one step ahead." Dumbledore paused, twinkling at Remus for a moment. "And perhaps to give up drinking tea."

Remus rolled his eyes at Dumbledore's gallows humor. "I know. Severus might not be around to save me next time." He sobered then, thinking about it. He was damned lucky that Severus had been there... and damned lucky that Severus read a vast array of rather odd books, which had enabled him to bring Remus back.

He watched as Dumbledore left, then picked up his book again, although he couldn't seem to focus on the words. Albus was correct, and Remus knew it. He knew that he was really running from his own memories, and by doing so was endangering his own life. And yet... was his life worth the price of his conscience?

Remus wasn't certain how long he sat, staring at the same page without seeing it, lost in his own thoughts. But the windows were dark when a sound finally drew his attention back to the door, where Remus noticed with a bit of surprise - as well as a flutter of pleasure - that Severus had entered.

"Still alive, I see," Severus drawled, raising a sardonic brow as he crossed to the bed. He stood staring down at Remus, face unreadable. "Although Albus has informed me that you have chosen to risk that."

Eyes narrowing slightly, Remus nodded. "Yes. You can call me anything you'd like, Severus, but if there is any other way, I would prefer it. It's just... my way."

Surprisingly, Severus merely nodded in acknowledgment. "I believe I can be of assistance, however. In obtaining the necessary information without you having to live through it."

Remus blinked in surprise, then shook his head. "Do you mean through Legilimency? I thought that even though you could see the memories, I would, too. Do you have a way to block them?"

"Not precisely," the Potions Master said. "What I propose is that you use a pensieve. Extract the memories in a general sense, place them in the vessel, and then they can be examined by another person. You may then either choose to take them back, or to let them remain in the pensieve permanently, where they would be no danger to you by surfacing suddenly."

"Someone else?" Remus asked, feeling an odd little pang. He didn't want to face those memories, didn't want to see who he might have killed or injured, but... did he want anyone else to do it, either? There was a Darkness within him due to his curse, a Darkness which he wasn't crazy about sharing. Who...

"Who?" Remus asked, somewhat pensively. "Who would want to see... that?"

"Albus would be willing," Severus said slowly, before giving Remus a look that was very carefully neutral. "As would I. Believe me, I am no stranger to Darkness or violence, Lupin, I doubt anything that resides within your head would be able to shock me. Not to mention the fact that I was there; I've seen at least part of this already, you know. Not to mention that I would be able to conclusively identify any of Voldemort's supporters who are involved, without having to bring in an outside reference. Even if Albus was the one you preferred, he would no doubt have to consult with me if there are people whom he cannot identify."

Remus considered that. Let Severus into his memories? Expose to Severus' gaze the most horrible, violent things Remus had ever done? It would, he knew, make him vulnerable in a way, knowing that Severus knew, even better than Remus himself - exactly what deeds Remus was capable of. It was... unnerving, to say the least. But the options...

"All right," Remus said quietly, and noticed the look of surprise that crossed Severus' face. But Severus merely nodded.

"Very well. Tomorrow, then. I will inform Albus of the plan. I take it that you do not wish to know the names?"

"I... I..." Remus hesitated, torn. It would be knowledge, of a sort, without him having to look directly into the eyes of the people he had killed. But it would also mean that there might be students he taught that he would have to face, knowing that he had destroyed their parents. "No. I don't think I do."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment of Remus' wishes. "Tomorrow, then." With that, Severus turned and started back toward the door.

"Thank you, Severus," Remus said quietly. Severus had done so much to help him, and was continuing to do so. Somehow thanks seemed inadequate.

Pausing in mid-stride, Severus turned to look at Remus over his shoulder, raising a brow and shaking his head. "Do not thank me yet, Lupin. You might find that I should be thanking you instead."

With that cryptic comment, Severus continued on his way, leaving Remus staring after him in confusion.

\---

The following morning found Remus once again ensconced in his quarters, looking around rather pensively at his own belongings. Poppy had finally been convinced to release Remus from the infirmary, although the grey-haired mediwitch had given him firm admonitions about contacting her if he felt any dizziness. Remus had agreed very quickly, anxious to be back in his own rooms.

Almost as soon as he had arrived, however, he had felt odd. Not that anything was wrong with him, but he found the subtly changed atmosphere of his quarters rather disturbing. Things were very slightly out of place, obviously moved in the search for clues as to the identity of his poisoner. Whoever had searched his quarters had obviously tried very hard to put everything back exactly as they had found it, but there were small differences that Remus could detect, just enough to remind him that his personal space had been invaded.

As well as bringing home the fact that someone really had tried to kill him.

Moving restlessly around the living room, Remus drew his wand, tweaking things back into order. He wasn't an overly fussy man, but it made him feel a bit more settled to know that he had determined the placement of his belongings. It was nothing more than a mere illusion of having control over the situation, but at the moment Remus would take anything that he could get.

Still feeling unsettled, Remus walked into the kitchen, and filled the kettle, tapping it with his wand to heat the water. Automatically his hand moved to the tin of tea on his shelf, before he flinched slightly and pulled down the tin beside it, the one that contained cocoa. He knew that his stores had been thoroughly examined and rendered safe - Poppy had assured him that only the tea had been tampered with, but that they had checked everything just to make certain - yet Remus found himself quite off of the thought of tea at the moment. Mixing up the rich, chocolate beverage, Remus sipped at it cautiously, before sighing to himself and returning to the sitting room.

The dregs of the cocoa were cold by the time a firm knock sounded on his door, and Remus found himself jumping quickly to his feet, a complicated mixture of anticipation and dread coiling in his stomach. Anticipation because this was undoubtedly Severus; dread because of what they were about to do.

Opening the door after removing the even more complex wards he had used to seal it, Remus uttered a distracted, "Hullo, Severus, please come in," before stepping back and allowing Severus to pass by him. Once inside, Severus turned and watched with alert eyes as Remus recast his wards, effectively sealing his quarters against any possible intrusion.

"It looks as though you are at least taking some precautions," Severus commented.

"Even this old wolf can be taught a new trick or two," Remus said, striving to keep his voice light so that perhaps Severus wouldn't notice his inner turmoil. Which, he knew, was a fruitless effort, but he did it any way, just out of force of habit.

Turning back to face Severus, Remus looked with a bit of trepidation at the pensieve in Severus' hands. The bowl seemed smaller than he remembered, but it just may have been because it was cracled in Severus' long-fingered, elegant hands. Drawing a deep breath, Remus motioned to his sofa. "You can place that down on the table," he said, then followed Severus as Severus moved, sitting the pensieve down with care on the low table. Severus then sank down on the sofa.

"Whenever you are ready," Severus said quietly, although his gaze on Remus was somewhat watchful.

Remus nodded, then sank down on the sofa next to Severus, pulling his wand once more. He looked into Severus' face, summoning up a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, I'm as ready as I am ever going to be," he stated, wondering if it were true. But he shook off the mood, in favor of getting this over with as quickly as possible. "What do you want me to do?"

Glancing at Remus wand, Severus pointed to his own temple. "Think about the time of the Final Battle," he instructed. "You do not have to visualize it in detail, merely concentrate on that particular day. Then place your wand to your temple, and say Miamemora. As the threads of your memory are removed, place them in the pensieve. When you are finished, I will look into the bowl and determine the information we need.

It certainly seemed easy enough. Swallowing against his suddenly dry throat, Remus placed the tip of his wand to his temple and thought about the day of the Final Battle. Darkness. Confusion. People screaming..."

Quickly muttering the words of the spell, Remus drew the wand away from his head, feeling oddly as though something in his mind was being unwoven, something becoming disconnected and lost, leaving a slight hole in its wake. Remus looked to one side to see a silver-shimmery memory thread dangling from his wand, and he held his wand over the pensieve, shaking it slightly to cause the gossamer thought to disengage and float dreamily down into the swirling silver surface of the pensieve.

For better or worse, it was done.

"What now?" he asked quietly, giving Severus an inquiring look.

"Now I will look into the memory, and see exactly what happened," Severus replied. He reached out, picking up the pensieve in both hands and bringing it up to his face. Muttering an incantation that Remus couldn't quite catch, Severus lowered his face to the shimmering surface, quite literally burying himself in Remus' memories of the Final Battle.

Remus waited anxiously. Time was, of course, relative, but it seemed that Severus sat still for what must have been hours, not moving. Curiosity began to drive Remus mad, and he was almost at the point of pulling Severus' head up out of the bowl - by his hair, if necessary - when Severus raised his head of his own accord and fixed Remus with an enigmatic look.

"What?" Remus asked, automatically going on the defensive. "What did you see... no, scratch that. I don't want to know. I really don't."

Severus continued to stare at Remus for a long moment, and Remus was struck by the complex whirl of emotions in Severus' eyes. But then Severus drew a deep breath, and blinked his eyes and features back to their normal, inscrutable lines. "Rest assured that - in my opinion at least - you did nothing to be ashamed of," Severus said. He placed the bowl back on the table. "It wouldn't harm you to look, Lupin. What is the expression? Know Thy Enemy?"

"I... I'm not ready yet," Remus replied, turning his face away and deciding to haul the subject back to the matter at hand. "Did you find out anything useful?"

There was a pause, and Remus glanced back to Severus, frowning with trepidation. At least there wasn't disgust on Severus' face. That was a good beginning. "I believe I have enough information for Albus and I to begin an inquiry," he stated. Then Severus rose to his feet. "Do you wish to take the memory back now?"

Remus hesitated. "No..." he said, frowning in displeasure with himself. But now that it was out, he felt completely loathe to take back the thoughts and actions which belonged to him. One day, he knew, he would have to own up to them, face them, deal with them.

But not today.

"I shall leave the pensieve," Sereus said, and Remus thought he saw the glimmer of a smirk twist Severus' thin lips for just moment.

"No, really," Remus said, glancing in a state of near-panic at the softly glowing bowl. "You don't have to do that, honestly. I can come to wherever you have it when it's time...."

"Nonsense," Severus said, waving an imperiously dismissive hand at the notion. "There is nothing in it currently except your memories. Keep it here. You can return it when you have taken back what is yours. I will keep you informed of our progress to catch the poisoner. Until then... I suggest you go lie down, Lupin. You are obviously still unwell."

Remus nodded, before showing Severus out. After the Potions Master had departed - with a somewhat concerned glance that Remus barely registered - Remus returned to the sofa, sinking down onto the cushions and staring that the pensieve.

It was all in there. His shame, his burden. All he had to do was breach the surface, and he would know what he had done, he would be forced to remembered hurting and killing others. The parents of his students.

The play of light on the surface of the bowl was hypnotic, seeming to lure Remus. Surely, as Severus had said he had nothing to be ashamed of, it would be safe to look? Yet something held him back, stayed his hand as it reached out toward the pensieve. He wasn't ready. Not yet.

Standing quickly, Remus moved toward his bedroom. Severus was right, he needed to lie down. Away from the pensieve. As far away from his guilt as he could get.


	7. Waxing Crescent

Waxing Crescent

Remus felt well enough, the day after his release from the infirmary, to go back to teaching his classes. One advantage of being used to forcing himself to be active after his monthly transformations was that it made him able to endure physical discomfort, he thought with a touch of gallows humor.

Returning to the classroom wasn't easy, however; it meant that he had to face his students, and those classes which were attended by students from Slytherin were especially difficult for him to face. One of them, if Severus and Albus were correct, believed that he, personally, had destroyed their family, had been responsible for the death of parents and the loss of their home. One of them blamed him, and blamed him strongly enough to not only have made an attempt on Remus' life, but to almost have succeeded.

It was hard to think that children so young could carry so much hatred, could have known so much pain and loss at so tender an age. Remus knew that it could happen, of course, because he had once been that age and had seen it in person, experienced the grief and horror and shock and helplessness it all entailed. But from the distance of twenty years the students looked so much younger than he remembered feeling at that age. Or perhaps it was just that Remus would have liked to believe that hatred died with the Dark Lord. A vain wish if ever there was one.

He skipped lunch in the Great Hall in favor of a sandwich in his quarters, both so that he could have some time away from the eyes of the students and concentrate on grading the backlog of essays which had piled up during his recovery. It was a relief to be alone, after spending the morning watching the students watching him, wondering if any of them really had tried to kill him. Even though he was developing a bit of a headache from the strain and tension, an hour or so of privacy ought to help clear it up.

His solitude, however, was to be rather short lived. It was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Remus looked up from his marking, frowning slightly in a mixture of annoyance and trepidation. He didn't like to admit to a slight feeling of paranoia about unexpected visitors, and so he threw off the feeling and forced himself to answer it. It took several long moments to undo all the wards, but finally they came down. Drawing a deep breath, Remus opened the door, wand still in his hand.

Remus' trepidation faded entirely when he found Neville standing outside, smiling at him somewhat uncertainly.

"Hullo, Neville," he greeted the younger wizard, returning the smile with one of his own. He stepped back, allowing Neville to enter. "Please, come in. Have a seat on the sofa, I'll just be a moment."

Neville did as instructed, although Remus could tell that Neville was watching as Remus carefully replaced the wards. Resisting the urge to mutter 'Constant Vigilance', Remus gave a rueful grimace as he finished and turned to join his visitor. "Sorry, feeling a bit paranoid, you know."

"I can understand that," Neville said, nodding. "After everything... well... you can't be too careful, can you?"

Remus dropped down into the chair opposite the sofa, then sighed regretfully and shook his head. "No, you can't, unfortunately. I thought my days of paranoia were over after the war. Unfortunately..." Remus' voice trailed off, and he shrugged. "What cannot be cured must be endured, I suppose."

"I guess," Neville agreed, echoing Remus' sigh with one of his own.

Remus saw Neville's eyes glance curiously at the pensieve - which still sat on the low sofa table - and he gave a rueful grimace. "Don't mind that. Severus left it here to taunt me, I think."

Neville blinked, and Remus noticed that the younger wizard's lips tightened, as they always seemed to when Severus' name was mentioned. Considering the humiliation that Neville had suffered at Severus' hands - a humiliation which far too closely mirrored Severus' own at the hands of the Marauders - it wasn't entirely surprising. "Taunt you?" Neville asked, his eyes looking harder than Remus had ever seen them look.

"It's just a figure of speech," Remus replied quickly. Merlin knew, he didn't want to be responsible for more tension between Neville and Severus. It was already quite strong enough as it was. Neville seemed to have a fiercely protective streak when it came to his friends; and while Remus felt honored and humbled to be among those who mattered to Neville, it meant that both as a friend and a co-worker he needed to be very careful not to make things worse than they already were. The headache which had been forming behind his eyes suddenly strengthened, and Remus rubbed his forehead. "Really, Severus was helping me, helping me a great deal. Needless to say I want the person who tried to kill me found, and Severus is doing everything in his power to aide in that."

Neville frowned. "But a pensieve? What good is a pensieve?"

Remus realized that Neville didn't know about everything that Severus and Albus had theorized concerning the situation, and he shook his head. "There is a suspicion that whoever poisoned did so because they believe that I killed their parents - or maybe even just one of them - in the last battle of the war." He paused, then sighed. If anyone would understand about the horror surrounding that entire, nightmarish day, Neville certainly would. There was no reason not to tell him; and, after all, Neville also knew and had confronted his elf-doubts. Perhaps telling him would help Remus to face his own.

"I really don't remember much about the final battle," Remus continued quietly, looking at the swirling surface of the pensieve with a troubled expression. "I've blocked it, I suppose, because I don't want to remember. It's probably very stupid, I know, and you'll think I'm pretty cowardly for a Gryffindor, but... I don't want to face the fact that I've killed. I have spent so many years trying to convince both myself and others that I am not a monster, not a killer, that even though it was a war and I had to do it, I just can't bring myself to own up to it. Even if the Ministry wants to tout me as some kind of hero, I really have problems facing what I've done." Remus looked up at Neville, meeting his eyes deliberately. "I'm just not ready. Not yet, at any rate. Someday, but not yet. So I put my memories in the pensieve, and Severus looked into them for me."

Neville gazed back calmly, and Remus saw a look of understanding in his serious brown eyes - and was deeply grateful for it. "That makes sense, Remus," Neville responded, voice soft and kind. He gave Remus a reassuring smile, before his features once again settled into a frown of concern. "I can see not wanting to face it - Merlin knows I've considered Obliviation myself more than once, especially when the nightmares are bad - but Remus... why Snape, of all people? Surely Dumbledore, or Harry, or... or... even I would have been willing to help you with it, so that you didn't have to let that..." Greasy Git practically hung in the air, unspoken, before Neville cleared his throat. "Someone other than Snape could have helped you, you know. All you had to do was ask."

"I know," Remus replied, smiling gratefully. He rubbed his head again. "It's just that... well, Severus already knows the worst about me, has seen it and faced it. He knows Darkness, he understands it. I... I would be ashamed to have you or Harry or even Albus see... that part of me. Severus already has. Severus understands it, and wouldn't be horrified to see... what I become."

Remus thought he saw a flash of hurt in Neville's eyes. "Oh. I see," the younger wizard replied, rather hollowly.

Damn... I've hurt his feelings, and I certainly didn't intend for that to happen, Remus thought, annoyed with himself for bringing about just the circumstance he had been trying to avoid. His head was absolutely throbbing now, and he stood, swaying slightly on his feet as his inner ear rebelled at the sudden rapid motion on top of the agony flaring behind his eyes. "Neville, excuse me for a moment, would you please? My head is killing me. It's the after effects of the hellebore, Poppy said, and she gave me a potion to take if it got too bad. I'm going to go take it - I'll be back in just a moment."

"Oh!" Neville said, eyes widening. "Of... of course. Go... go!"

Remus nodded, wincing as the pain sharpened abruptly, accompanied by a bout of nausea. He walked quickly to the bathroom, and then groped blindly in the cabinet for the small blue bottle that Poppy had given him for just this circumstance. Remus loathed taking medicine - probably because he had downed so much of it in his life - and so he had held off probably too long before giving in and resorting to the potion for pain.

The stuff was cool and surprisingly pleasant going down, and Remus wondered distantly if Severus had brewed it. In a minute or so his head began to clear, the pain to recede enough that the nausea vanished. Remus shuddered slightly in the aftermath, now that the pain was gone feeling how tired and drained he actually was. Poppy had warned him not to over do things, and it seemed he had come perilously close to doing just that.

Once his head was no longer throbbing, Remus rejoined Neville, who was frowning and looked rather pale. Remus smiled reassuringly to let Neville know that he was all right. "Don't look so concerned, I'm fine. I promise I won't relapse on you, Neville. It was just a headache, and it's clearing."

Despite the reassurances, Neville stood quickly. "You should rest," he said, nodding to underscore his point. "I... didn't... I didn't mean to cause you stress. I'll be going, then. Just wanted to... to, um... check on how you were."

Remus sighed. "I suppose you're right," he said, shaking his head slightly, but keeping his voice light. "I think I'm going to cancel the rest of my classes for the day, and go lie down. Better to let myself get my strength back than to push so hard that I collapse in an effort to prove how manly I am, and wind up fainting like a girl."

"Right," Neville said, moving to the door quickly, with Remus trailing after him. Then he stopped, apparently remembering the wards, and glanced back at Remus. "Er... can you let me out?"

"Oh, of course," Remus replied, a bit chagrined that he had forgotten them himself, for the moment. Pulling his wand once more, he dropped the wards, then opened the door. "There you go. Have a good rest of your day."

"Er... thanks." Neville slipped out, seeming in a hurry to escape, and Remus hoped that he hadn't made the younger man too uncomfortable with all the personal revelations.

"No, thank you, Neville. I appreciate that you came 'round to check on me. It was a very kind thing to do. As you can see, though, I'm fine... or getting there, at any rate."

"Right," Neville said again. He gave Remus a quick smile. "Yes. Well. I... hopefully we'll see you at dinner. Bye, Remus."

"Goodbye, Neville." Remus watched Neville go, sighing. He hoped that Neville wasn't going to feel awkward around him now. This was one of the reasons that Remus had felt it best if Severus looked at his memories, rather than anyone else.

Severus understood.

Closing the door, Remus sighed again, suddenly weary. He raised the wards again, then moved to the Floo. He would call Albus and cancel his classes. Then to bed, to let his tired mind and body recover from the way he had been pushing himself today.

Chuckling, Remus shook his head. Old wolves might be capable of figuring out new tricks, but there were some lessons they just never learned.

\---

After his visit with Neville, Remus slept through the rest of the day, and then through the night as well. The rest, however, seemed to be what he needed, for he woke the next morning, thankfully a Saturday, feeling much better than he had the previous day and with no trace of the horrible headache.

He wasn't certain if it was the aftermath of the headache, or his own troubled mind, but Remus' sleep, though deep, did contain some odd dreams. Flashes of the final battle, but he left the battlefield to find himself kneeling in the greenhouses, pruning the hellebore. These were followed by visions of being trapped in a cold, dark oubliette, which he tried desperately to climb out of but would always fall short before reaching the top, plunging back down to the ground to try again, Sisyphus fashion. Fortunately these visions eventually gave way to more pleasant ones, ones which involved Severus, chocolate, and very little clothing. Equally frustrating in some ways, but much easier to cope with.

Dressing quickly, Remus headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, smiling at the students he passed in the hall. Most of them were dressed casually, and he realized with a start that it must be a Hogsmeade weekend. With everything that had occurred in the past several days, Remus had lost track. He decided that he would go into town himself, take a break from the school and pick up some chocolate at Honeyduke's. There were a few people he wished to thank for their aid during his recovery, especially Poppy and Severus. In Remus' opinion, chocolate was the universally accepted thanks.

Perhaps he might even invite Severus to go along with him.

A pleasurable curl formed in Remus' stomach at the thought of spending a day with Severus, perhaps taking a walk in the lovely autumn weather before stopping at The Three Broomsticks for something to drink. They could relax and talk, away from the pressures of their employment and the atmosphere of the school.

Smiling to himself, Remus entered the Great Hall, eyes automatically scanning the Head Table for a certain face. His smile faded slightly as he saw that Severus wasn't present, but it was not unknown for the Potions Master to skip breakfast on the weekends, catching up on his own personal endeavors. Remus took his own place, smiling at Minerva and Albus, and serving himself a fortifying breakfast while engaging in small talk about the weather, the students, and the Quidditch Cup.

Remus couldn't help looking down at the student tables, particularly the Slytherin one. Most of the students had already eaten and left to get ready for Hogsmeade, which meant that only a smattering of the First and Second years - surely too young to be a threat - and a few of the older ones who were apparently running late.

Searching those young faces, Remus pensively looked for any sign of hatred, any rejection, any undue notice being paid to him, but he saw nothing at all. Which didn't, of course, prove a thing, but made him feel just a bit relieved. Perhaps the hellebore had been a prank, gotten out of hand. It's not like the Marauders never did anything to recklessly endanger others, such as breaking a full grown werewolf out of the Shrieking Shack every month to go running about in the open, or luring another student in to get a closer look...

A shiver ran down Remus' spine. Perhaps they really were going about this all wrong. Perhaps it was just a prank, even the supposed threat. Tensions were apparently running high even after the war, and maybe the rumor of a threat had caused someone quite unconnected to act upon it.

Remus stopped, shaking his head. Severus would call him a fool, no doubt, for wanting so desperately to believe in the fundamental goodness in most people, especially children. He knew it was also another form of denial on his part - if he could convince himself it was a stupid, dangerous prank rather than a real threat, it was easier to feel that he hadn't had to kill anyone, thereby triggering the threat.

Damn. He really was going to have to look in the pensieve... he was going to far too great a length to keep himself in denial, and Remus knew it.

His appetite was gone, and Remus sighed, pushing back from the table and rising to his feet. With a polite but brief farewell to his colleagues, Remus departed the Hall, heading down to Severus' office. No doubt that was where the Potions Master could be located, and Remus found that now, more than ever, he would really like Severus' company.

Unfortunately, Severus wasn't in his office, or, if he were, he didn't answer Remus' knocking. Remus stood indecisively for a few moments, debating with himself, before turning and heading down the hall in the direction of Severus' quarters. Hopefully Severus wouldn't be too annoyed with him for intruding on his more personal space, to which Remus had not yet been invited. But he knew well enough where Severus' quarters were, and in short order he was there, knocking on the door and waiting impatiently for Severus to answer. An answer which was not forthcoming.

Remus frowned, intensely disappointed. Severus must have had plans already, or business to attend to, and Remus was just out of luck. He could still go into Hogsmeade, however. It would be much better than hanging about the castle, moping about not getting to spend the day with Severus. Next time, he would be sure to make plans and ask before the day arrived.

Walking slowly back towards the stairs, Remus was lost in thought about what excuse he could use to invite Severus to Hogsmeade the next time, since his plan for the spur of the moment invitation for today obviously wouldn't do. Hearing footsteps approaching from behind him, he turned around, hopeful that it was Severus returning from whatever business he had been about. A hope which was dashed when Remus was Draco striding rapidly down the corridor, frowning.

Well, at least wherever Severus was, it apparently wasn't with Draco, a fact which gave a guilty part of him a bit of relief. Draco, however, might know where Severus was... and Remus had no reason not to ask.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. I was looking for Severus. Have you by chance seen him this morning?" Remus asked, voice and expression carefully polite.

For a moment Remus thought Draco might be going to stalk by him without even slowing, but when the younger wizard drew close, he stopped, frown deepening. "No, I haven't seen him this morning," he said, then began walking again.

Remus thought for a second. Damned literal little prat. "Do you know where I might find him, then? I wished to ask him something," Remus continued.

Draco stopped once more, turning and raising a brow at Remus. "No, I don't know," he said shortly. Remus got the feeling that even if Draco did know, that he would probably rather swallow bubotuber pus than to share that information with Remus.

Really, this was getting rather tiresome.

"Do you have a problem with me, Draco?" Remus asked, raising a brow of his own in challenge. "Really, I can't think of anything I have done that you should hold against me. If there is something, if you would care to discuss it perhaps we can get past it. I'm certainly willing to listen to anything you have to say."

"Oh, you can't think of anything you've done, can you?" Draco spat. It was obvious that Draco wanted to say something else, bit he bit back the words. "Well, if you can't think of anything, Professor Lupin, then quite obviously there mustn't be anything, correct? Perhaps I'm just a Pureblooded snob who doesn't care to deal with supposed War Heroes. Perhaps I just don't like werewolves. Or maybe unlike everyone else in this place, I just don't like you." Draco turned once more, and strode away. This time, Remus let him go.

Staring after Draco in dismay, Remus wondered if it were really that simple. Merely a dislike of werewolves, or a bias because of genetics? It seemed to be a great deal of animosity, as well as quite personal, to carry for something like him merely being a lycanthrope and a half-blood. There had to be more. Could it be jealousy, perhaps? Or was there something else going on, something deeper and more worrisome that Remus just wasn't aware of?

Sighing, Remus followed in Draco's wake, exiting the dungeon. He still planned to go to Hogsmeade, but now he was merely doing it to prove that he would not let something so minor as a vindictive little blond, Pureblooded bigot ruin his day. Perhaps Severus would be in Hogsmeade... if so, Remus would have to make certain to coax Severus into spending some time with him, and to let Draco know that nothing he said was going to stop Remus from pursuing his friendship - and hopefully, perhaps even more - with Severus.

\---

Dark. Dark with nuts. Dark with nuts and caramel. Enrobed cherries. Smothered raisins. Glistening confections dusted with cocoa, cinnamon, mocha. Rich brown masses dotted with coconut, drizzled with peanut butter, or stuffed fat with nugat or truffle. The smell in the air rich enough to taste, causing the mouth to water and the stomach to rumble painfully.

Was it any wonder than Remus thought Honeyduke's was the closest thing to Heaven in the world?

Wandering up and down the aisles, looking for the perfect selections, Remus found it easy and pleasant to dismiss his worries for a brief time, losing himself in contemplation of what would please Severus and Poppy the most. Mostly Severus, actually, whom Remus was absolutely certain would be far pickier about his sweets than the more relaxed mediwitch.

Remus was a well known customer in the confectionary, and had been ever since childhood. The largest advantage now was that he had the money to indulge in the higher quality merchandise, rather than having to content himself with merely plain chocolate or simple candies. Truffles, especially, were a particular weakness of his, and Remus spent several long minutes contemplating the available selection, mentally debating the merits of rum as opposed to Grand Marnier. Decisions, decisions.

The walk to Hogsmeade had been uneventful, and although Remus had looked around hopefully he had not seen Severus in any of the shops. Apparently the Potions Master had gone elsewhere for the day, and with a sigh of disappointment he had taken himself off to Honeyduke's, to assuage his misery with the sacred bean of the cacao.

Students thronged through the shop, chattering and laughing and focussing on the treats more suitable to a student's palate and purse. Remus greeted several of them, smiling politely, but his thoughts were still on Severus and chocolate. And then suddenly on the combination of Severus and chocolate at the same time, which caused a warmth to steal over Remus that wasn't at all appropriate for his current location.

Forcing himself back to more mundane matters, Remus didn't hear someone approaching from behind him until a familiar, amused voice spoke.

"The moment Albus told me that you'd gone into Hogsmeade, I knew I would find you here. Even if you had still been in the coma, I suspect you would have figured out how to get to Honeydukes."

Straightening, Remus turned around with a smile. "Harry!" he exclaimed, before catching the tall young man up in a close embrace. "I didn't know that you were coming to the castle today!"

Laughing, Harry returned the hug, before stepping back and looking Remus carefully up and down. His expression became serious, his green eyes full of concern. "Albus told me you had recovered, but I couldn't get away immediately. I came as soon as I got back in the country. Although I was there when you first were ill, but I had to leave again. Work, you know. They told me that you might be in the coma for some time. I'm so glad that you came out of it so quickly."

Remus nodded, smiling back. Harry played Quidditch for England as their first-string Seeker, and the matches were getting underway for the year which forced him to have to travel extensively. "It's not a problem, Harry. I understand... and believe it or not, I remember hearing your voice while I was in the coma, telling me to hold on. I knew you were there, and I really appreciate it." Remus squeezed Harry's arm, eyes soft with affection and gratitude. "Thank you."

Harry flushed slightly, shrugging off Remus' thanks and waving a hand dismissively. "I'm just happy that you are well enough to be in Honeydukes. Although you could probably be on your last legs and - if you will pardon the expression - wolfing down chocolate like a First year!"

They both chuckled, then Remus gestured to the case. "Can I get you anything? I wanted to pick up a couple of things for gifts. Or we could go to The Three Broomsticks and I could buy you a drink, if you have time. I've missed talking to you, but we've both been so busy lately."

With a sigh, Harry nodded. "Yes, very busy, chasing various things." A shadow crossed Harry's eyes, and Remus wondered what the young man was thinking about. But then Harry shook off the mood and grinned. "A drink sounds great... but I'm buying."

Remus grinned. "All right. But only the first round."

It took only a few minutes for Remus to complete his purchases, having picked out a box of assorted chocolates for Poppy, a selection of mixed truffles - all dark chocolate, of course - for Severus, plus a few things for his own consumption. Then he and Harry made their way to The Three Broomsticks, laughing over the excitement of the younger students who were sitting at some of the tables, drinking Butterbeer and trying to act very cool and sophisticated.

Remus remembered his own youth, and how incredible the trips into Hogsmeade had been, full of fun and adventure and the carefree companionship of his best friends. Sometimes he missed it so much that he felt a physical pang, especially now, sitting across from Harry at a table. Harry turned to signal to Rosmerta for two Butterbeers, and Remus watched him, head tilted slightly to one side. In profile the younger wizard resembled James so much that Remus' breath caught, until Harry turned once again, smiling, and Remus smiled back, the illusion fading.

"So, what else have you been up to, Harry?" Remus asked. Rosmerta dropped off their drinks with a smile, and he waited until she had moved away before leaning across the table, smiling mischievously. "It can't be all work, all the time. Anyone special in your life yet? Anyone turning your head? Don't make me read about things in The Daily Prophet. Inquiring minds want to know!"

"Nosey minds, more like," Harry retorted, taking a drink from his bottle. But Remus noticed a tell-tale flush steal over Harry's cheeks.

"Same thing," Remus said, nodding. He smiled at Harry reassuringly. "You don't have to tell me, Harry, it was all in fun. You just... well, you're young and attractive, and I guess it's my frustrated inner parent who would adore to see you happy and with some one in your life who loves you. You deserve it."

Harry flushed even brighter. "Remus, I... well..." He took another drink from his Butterbeer, then glanced around the tavern slightly nervously as though afraid someone might be listening. Apparently not seeing anyone whose presence disturbed him, Harry leaned closer to Remus and spoke in a very low voice. "Remus, I don't know if this is the right time, or place, or whatever... but I really need to tell you something. I've been meaning to for a while, but... I guess I just felt uncomfortable. Not because of you, but because I was still sorting it out for myself. I needed to be sure."

"All right, Harry," Remus said, reaching out to pat Harry's hand soothingly. This was obviously something that had been bothering Harry for some time, and he wanted to show his support as much as possible. "You can tell me anything, you know that. I'm not going to stand in judgment on you, not at all." He desperately hoped that nothing horrible had happened to Harry, and a surge of protectiveness went through Remus at the thought of anyone having done anything to make Harry unhappy, after all that Harry had been through.

"I know." Harry sighed, then ran a nervous hand through his hair, forcing the already messy locks to even wilder disarray. "I know you would support me, but... I had to know for myself first. But now I do, and so..." Looking at Remus bravely, Harry took a deep breath. "Remus, I'm gay."

Remus blinked, then smiled slightly. Well, this certainly wasn't the horror he had feared, and he sighed in relief. "You're gay... well, then, welcome to the club."

It was Harry's turn to blink in surprise. "Club?" he asked, almost spilling his Butterbeer. "You mean... you?"

"Yes, me," Remus said, his smile widening into a grin. "I may be old, Harry, but I'm not exactly all used up, you know. I just..." his voice trailed off, and Remus shrugged. Really there was no sense getting into all that. Especially not about Severus. This was about Harry, after all. "Anyway, I understand your hesitation to tell me, but really, there is no worries on my end. If anyone understands, I do. Trust me on that one."

Harry swallowed, then smiled slightly. "Well. Of all the ways I expected this to go... that certainly wasn't one of them. If I had known, I would have told you a lot sooner." Harry paused, then, giving Remus a shrewd look. "I never suspected, Remus, really. I never saw you with anyone, and you're friendly to everyone. I did see you once hugging Tonks at Grimmauld Place, after..." His voice trailed off, and Remus knew exactly when Harry was referring to. After Sirius had died.

"Yes, I think I know when. Tonks is a good friend, Harry, but nothing more. She was very upset, I was comforting her, that's all." Remus shook his head ruefully. So were acts of kindness badly misinterpreted, and rumors born.

Nodding, Harry chuckled, blushing again. "I saw you take her up to your room, and I guess... well, I guess after that I just thought you were with her, at least in some way, and never really gave any thought to your, er... sexuality after that."

"I took her up to my room, gave her a sleeping draught, and then spent the night reading," Remus replied. He sighed. "But I can see where a fifteen year old might get the impression."

Harry took another drink. Then his face went blank as a thought obviously occurred to him. "Remus, you and Sirius.... you weren't..."

"We weren't," Remus said firmly. How many times over the years had he had to quash that particular rumor? He had lost count. "Sirius liked girls. He liked them very much. He was my best friend, and I never thought about him in that way."

"Oh." Harry seemed to digest that. "Well. Sorry, I..." Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "I'm just a great one for jumping to wrong conclusions, aren't I? Hermione would kick my butt if she knew."

"I'm sure she would," Remus smiled, and winked. "So, how is Hermione? I haven't seen her in ages."

Harry launched into an update of what Hermione and Ron had been up to for the last few months, which took quite some time. They then caught up on other things, until Remus looked up at the clock and sighed regretfully. "This has been great, Harry, but I need to get back to the castle. I have work to catch up on, essays and such, and if I don't get started I will never get done before Monday. Severus took my classes while I was recovering, and that man assigns more homework than anyone I have ever known!"

"You can say that again," Harry responded with a rueful chuckle, rising to his feet. He threw a few galleons on the table, then he turned to follow Remus out of the tavern. "It was good to see you, Remus, and get a chance to talk."

Remus smiled in return. "Yes it was, Harry. I always enjoy getting to visit with you." He looked up and down the street, noticing a few students still scurrying to complete last minute purchases, then turned back to Harry. "You know you can always tell me anything, Harry. And if you ever need to talk, please... come to me. I promise to listen and not lecture. Well, not as much as Hermione, at any rate."

"Thanks, Remus," Harry replied. They began to walk slowly down the High Street, back towards Hogwarts. "I will do that." Harry hesitated for a moment, obviously in indecision. "You know, there is something else. You asked if there was anyone I was interested in? Well... yes, there is. It's rather complicated, but..."

They were passing by a gap between two of the buildings, and Remus, attention focussed on what Harry was saying, was caught completely by surprise as something dark and heavy flew out of the alley and hit him on the side of the head with enough force to cause him to stagger. A blinding pain rocked his skull, and he cried out, clutching his head.

Harry shouted, grabbing Remus by the arm. "Remus? Are you all right?"

"Something hit me!" Remus hissed, eyes narrowed in pain. He looked down the now-empty alley, then at the ground, where a large rock rested a few feet away, the obvious weapon. "Bloody hell, someone threw that at us!"

A grimace of fury twisted Harry's face. "How are you? Are you hurt badly?"

"No," Remus said, pulling away one hand. His fingertips were smeared with blood, but it appeared to be only a superficial injury, thank Merlin. "Who..."

"I don't know," Harry replied. Letting go of Remus' arm, he dashed up the alley, looking around quickly for any sign of the culprit. Then Harry puled his wand and conjured a few spells. Returning to Remus, Harry shook his head in annoyance. "Damn. I didn't see anyone. Whoever it was must have run off quickly, or Apparated away or something."

"Did you hear anyone Apparate?" Remus asked, wincing and pulling his own wand. Holding it to his temple, he conjured a quick healing spell to staunch the bleeding, then a cleaning spell to get rid of the sticky mess trailing down the side of his face.

Harry frowned. "I... I don't know. I don't think so, but I wasn't really listening."

Remus grimaced, then looked around the street. Several people nearby had stopped and were staring, and he smiled at them "I'm fine... it's nothing," he said. Most of them returned about their business, and he sighed. Was this related to the poisoning, or was it just a stupid prank?

"Well, that seems to be our adventure for the day," Remus said. "Always excitement, isn't it?"

Before Harry could answer, they both turned at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Neville ran up to them, face flushed. "Remus? Are you all right? One of the students saw me and told me someone had thrown something at you?"

"Yes," Remus answered, sighing. Neville looked worried, and Remus was touched. "Harry looked for who did it, but they got away. Probably just a student prank or something. It might not even have been personal, you know. They might have just been waiting for someone to walk by."

Neville frowned. "I suppose," he replied, biting his lip. He hesitated for a moment. "How long ago was this? Like five minutes?"

"About that," Harry said, looking at Remus for confirmation. "Why? Did you see something?"

"I... I'm..." Neville started, flushing slightly. "I don't like to... point fingers, you know. I just... I noticed something I thought was odd, earlier, and then..."

"What, Neville?" Remus asked, raising a questioning brow. "What did you see?"

"I was standing over at Madam Malkin's when you and Harry came out of Honeydukes earlier," Neville said slowly. "I was going to say hello, but you were talking and I didn't want to interrupt. Then I noticed that someone was following you as you went up the street. I didn't think anything of it at the time, since, well, it's a public street, but... Just before the student told me you had been hit, this same person went running past me in a big hurry. It seemed odd, but..."

"Who, Neville?" Remus asked, frowning. "Who was it?"

"Yes, who?" Harry asked, features set in to grim lines, his eyes darkening with anger.

Neville hesitated, glancing back and forth between them, and then sighed unhappily. "It was Malfoy. And... well... he looked rather smug."

Remus grimaced. "Oh, this is just wonderful. Thanks Neville. That's not proof, of course, but..."

"I don't think it was Malfoy," Harry said, and both Remus and Neville looked at him in surprise. Harry's lips were white, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

"Harry," Remus said, shaking his head and wincing slightly at the residual ache from the hit. "Draco seems to have it in for me. I'm not accusing him, you understand, but... well, he and I had a bit of a run in before I came into town. I can't rule out the possibility that he did throw the rock. I seem to be a walking target lately, I guess. I just wish I knew why Draco hates me so much. I have never done anything to him that I can recall!"

Harry looked at Remus in surprise, then glanced at Neville, who looked away. "Remus," Harry said, frowning slightly. "You mean... you don't remember?"

"Remember what?" Remus asked in confusion. "What did I ever do to Malfoy to make him hate me?" Other than possibly trying to get closer to Severus.

Harry shook his head, giving Remus a very concerned look. "I can't believe..." he began, then trailed off. "It was at the Final Battle, Remus. You were protecting me, remember? Everything was going fast and furious, and curses were flying all over the place..."

Harry's words brought back vague flashes, and Remus winced again, hands coming up to his head. The memory was gone, but there were echoes of it still, from dreams and thoughts about it later. "Draco wasn't even at the Final Battle, Harry. And he was on our side at that point, anyway. I never did anything to him! I couldn't have."

"But you did," Harry said softly, looking at Remus and frowning. "I don't know why you don't remember, because I certainly do. You saved me, you know. By stopping Draco's father from killing me. That's probably why he hates you, Remus... you killed Lucius Malfoy."


	8. First Quarter

First Quarter

There was knocking at the door, but Remus wasn't answering it.

Huddled up alone on the sofa in the dark sitting room, Remus stared at the shifting surface of the pensieve, face utterly blank, a feeling of numbness overwhelming him. Numbness was not good, but it was at least better than pain. Pain was very bad, although Remus felt he probably deserved it.

He had killed Lucius Malfoy. Struck him down, ended his life, used the killing curse for the first time in his life. Remus, who had tried always to preserve life, had ended one, violated his own cardinal rule that he would never kill, never become what people had called him the whole of his life. The fact that he had done it in war, and to save Harry, didn't change anything in Remus' mind. There had to have been something else he could have used. Something that would have incapacitated but not killed. Something that wouldn't have caused the death of Draco's father.

Draco was probably the one out to kill him. And Remus could definitely understand why.

The knocking at the door grew louder, more urgent. Still it barely intruded on Remus' introspection.

The light of the pensieve seemed to mock him, swirling around so innocuously as though the horror contained within it were not eating Remus alive. That, and the memory of his encounter with Draco in the dungeon, where Remus had asked Draco what he could possibly have done to hurt him, and Draco had snapped back that if Remus couldn't remember, then there must be nothing. As if it weren't bad enough that Remus had taken the life of Draco's father, it must have appeared that Remus was mocking him about it.

Merlin. Could things possibly get any worse?

Silence finally descended from the doorway, although Remus was aware of it only peripherally. What he was aware of, however, was the sudden slamming as a burst of magic blew the door inward, slamming back into the wall hard enough to shake the entire room - no mean feat in a castle like Hogwarts. Remus glanced up dully, wondering if Draco had come to extract his vengeance more directly this time. He was vaguely surprised, then, to see Severus standing framed in the doorway, looking almost frantic for a moment. Once the dark eyes fell on Remus, however, they narrowed, and Severus' expression became as dark and furious as Remus had ever seen.

There was a long pause, before Severus drew a breath and launched into a full-fledged Snape tirade. "Why are you not answering the door?" Severus demanded harshly. "Did it occur to you that someone might wonder if the person who tried to poison you might not have struck again, and this time successfully? What in Merlin's name has gotten into you, Lupin? Perhaps rather than wasting my time and efforts actually attempting to find the person who poisoned you, I should just let them have you!"

Remus gazed back dully. "Perhaps you should, Severus. I can't say as I blame him for wanting me dead, after all."

Severus halted in mid-snark, staring at Remus for a moment before frowning darkly. "What are you on about, Lupin? What do you..." Severus' eyes fell on the pensieve, and his eyes widened. "You decided to take back the memory, then."

"No," Remus said, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on the sofa, weary although he had been doing nothing but sitting for over twenty four hours. "No, I didn't look. Harry told me about Lucius. After Draco apparently threw a rock at me, although what good that would do, unless he got lucky..."

"Draco?" Severus' face suddenly lost all expression, closing down as though a curtain had been drawn across his pale features, and Remus' heart sank at the sight. "You think Draco is the one who tried to kill you? Based purely on the fact that Potter told you that you killed Lucius, I take it?"

"Not just that," Remus replied dully. "He had access to the hellebore, even signed for it, in fact. He is cunning, he has motive. It all fits."

"It does not bloody fit!"

Remus opened his eyes, looking up at Severus, seeing a grim, tight expression on Severus' face. Apparently Severus was going to continue to stand by Draco, no matter what Remus said. What did it matter, then?

Shrugging, Remus sighed. "It does, Severus. You can't deny he has a bloody good motive and had every opportunity..."

"You believe it is really that simple, do you? That Draco did it, and what, you are merely going to give up? Possibly have Draco removed from his position based on nothing except pure speculation and circumstantial evidence? Other people have motive as well, and if you go after Draco, that will leave you still vulnerable to the real attacker," Severus responded, his voice harsh and implacable. "Since the damage is already done, Lupin, you might as well face up to everything. Lucius Malfoy was not the only person you killed that night."

Things abruptly got worse.

"Others? You mean... there are more?" Remus groaned. He dropped his head into his hands, shuddering, an icy feeling creeping slowly over him. "Sweet Merlin."

"Yes." Severus' voice was uncompromising. "Lupin, this has gone on quite long enough. You cannot make accusations against Draco if you will not take back the rest of that memory and see all off the possibilities. You of all people, who have always espoused that it is not fair to judge someone based on externals, you would do the same thing to Draco? I think not."

He didn't want to do it. Remus really didn't want to know who else, or even how many... but Severus was correct. It wasn't fair, even if Remus were fairly certain that Draco was the culprit. He had run from it for over a year now, and it was time to stop running.

Reluctantly Remus straightened from his slouch, his eyes not meeting Severus' as he pulled out his wand. Remus stared into the pensieve, feeling as Severus crossed the room, then sat down next to him on the sofa. Remus was grateful for the apparent support, and he finally looked at Severus again, his expression sober. "You're right, of course. Damn you."

Severus raised a brow at the epithet, but it wasn't a scowl so much as a bit of surprise that Remus had at last given in.

"Of course I am right," Severus responded. Remus blinked, wondering if Severus were attempting to lighten the mood, and found himself appreciating the effort.

This was not going to be easy.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Remus placed the tip of his wand in the pensieve, watching the light swirl and play around the disturbance. Slowly he stirred it, drawing his memory back to his wand, then closed his eyes. Swallowing, Remus raised the wand from the pensieve, and brought it to his temple.

"Lupin?"

Remus heard Severus' question as he brought the tip of his wand to his temple, steeling himself for the memory, he found that he was sweating, that his heart was racing in anticipation. Slowly he opened his mind and...

Nothing.

Blinking in surprise, Remus looked at Severus, to find Severus staring at him with a frown.

"Nothing happened! I don't have the memory back... what could have gone wrong, Severus?" Remus asked, concerned and confused. He had pulled memories back from a pensieve before, and nothing like this had ever happened to him.

"Nothing came up on your wand," Severus replied darkly. He glanced at the pensieve consideringly, then back at Remus once more. "I think that you will need to look into the pensieve directly. Perhaps something happened with your wand, or with your thoughts about retrieving your memory. You may have been subconsciously influencing it since you so obviously do not really wish to take the memory back."

"Perhaps," Remus said, slowly and reluctantly. He sat his wand aside carefully, then with a sigh he placed his hands on either side of the bowl. Remus leaned over the pensieve, staring into the surface for a long, tense moment before closing his eyes. Gathering his resolve, Remus moved forward slowly, very slowly, until his face touched the cold, scintillating surface.

At that precise moment, he felt a warm, pleasant shock - as Severus' hand unexpectedly came to rest on his back in a gesture of support.

Remus' eyes sprang open in shock, and he stared into a hazy, shifting silvery mist. Severus was touching him! Remus was so completely gobsmacked by this realization that he nearly forgot what he was supposed to be facing there in the pensieve. Swallowing, he pulled himself together, drawing a deep breath before looking around at... nothing. Absolutely nothing.

What in the bloody hell had happened?

Remus glanced around, but everywhere he looked there was nothing visible but the shifting, formless silver. No memories, no feelings, not even the ghost of an image of anything at all. Confused, Remus pulled up out of the mist, turning to stare at Severus with wide eyes. Severus' hand was still there on his back, warm and certain, and Remus saw concern in the black eyes gazing back at him.

"Well?" Severus asked. "You were not in there very long. What did you see?"

"Nothing," Remus replied. "There's nothing in there, Severus!"

"What?" The Potions Master scowled, staring at Remus as though he thought that the werewolf had lost his mind. His hand moved from Remus' back, and Remus felt bereft at the loss of that contact, unexpected as it had been to begin with.

"The pensieve is empty, I swear," he replied quietly. "Look for yourself, Severus. There isn't anything in it at all."

Frowning, Severus leaned forward, plunging his face into the surface. He remained hunched over for several long minutes, enough that Remus began to wonder if there were something wrong. Finally, however, Severus straightened, facing Remus with a grim expression on his pale face.

"You are correct. The pensieve is empty."

The two men stared at each other, not speaking. Both had the same questions, but neither had the answers. Who had stolen Remus' memory from the pensieve... and, much more importantly, why would they have done it at all?

\---

"I just don't know what to do, Albus," Remus said, frustration evident in his voice and in his manner, as he stalked from one end of the Headmaster's office to the other. The nervous energy was an obvious sign of his inner agitation. "I don't know what to think, and now I don't even have the option of finding out what really happened for myself, since someone not only tried to kill me, they stole my damned memories!"

"There is a great deal going on here, that's a given," Dumbledore responded, his blue eyes following Remus' repeated travels across the carpet. The elderly wizard's eyes held little of their customary twinkle, and his face was grave. "It is not even entirely obvious that the person who attempted to poison you with the hellebore is the same one who stole your memories from the pensieve."

"You don't think so?" Remus asked, stopping and giving Dumbledore a worried look. "But... I would think that it would have to be the same person, or perhaps a person and an accomplice? Unless you believe there are two people in the school who wish me dead."

"I did not say that," Albus replied. He gestured to a seat, and with a heavy sigh Remus nodded, dropping into the leather chair wearily. "I merely said that it could be two separate people. The person who left the poison in your tea had an obvious, immediate and clear goal - to wit, your death. The person who mucked about with the pensieve... that is another matter, and one that is not nearly so clear as to purpose."

"But why break into my rooms merely to steal a memory?" Remus asked.

"Perhaps they didn't," Dumbledore said, eyes narrowing in concentration. "Perhaps it was merely a target of opportunity. They could have been there for another reason entirely, and merely have noticed the pensieve and decided to check it out."

"But why take the memory?" Remus asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "If they had merely looked I would have had no way of knowing that anyone but Severus had ever born witness to what was inside. Why take something whose absence would eventually be missed? Severus and I searched my quarters, and nothing else was missing or disturbed. None of the foodstuffs or toiletries was contaminated, no traps of any type were left, no monitoring or surveillance magics... In other words, it appears that the only thing that was done was to take the memory. But I just don't understand why!"

Dumbledore stroked his beard, obviously lost in thought. Remus gazed at his employer, friend, and long-time mentor, could practically watch the wheels spinning in the wily old wizard's brain. After several long moments, Dumbledore met Remus' eyes again. "Hmm... it could have been a target of opportunity, Remus. And perhaps the goal was not to take the memory so that they could see it - which, as you pointed out, would have been unnecessary. Perhaps the goal was that so you could not have the memory. Either to make it so that you could not discover their identity so readily, or to hide something else that was revealed in that memory that they do not wish for you to see."

"But... Severus has already seen it, so even if I don't know, Severus does," Remus responded, still puzzled.

"Be that as it may, it is your memory. There might have been something in it that was significant to you and to the person who took it, which might not be significant to Severus - or at least not obvious to him. Be that as it may, it seems apparent that for some reason, there was something in that memory that the person who stole it does not wish for you to recall. And they were willing to steal it in order to keep it from you. A dangerous business, as you know."

"I know," Remus said. "Very dangerous."

Memories were precious to the person to whom they belonged, of course, and valuable in a very definite sense to that person and to any one whom the memory concerned. Some of the uses of a pensieve were to protect a particularly precious memory, or to allow someone to look more objectively at their own memories - from outside of them, as it were. But a pensieve's most common use was to allow a second party to share a memory, to see it and feel as though they directly witnessing the event that had occurred. It was almost like being within someone else's mind, able to observe but not interact, and with an outside perspective maintained.

One of the benefits of sharing through a pensieve was that it magically helped the observer to keep their distance, to know that they were merely looking in at something which they had not experienced. The sharing of memories without a pensieve, however, had very definite and very dire risks. Taking someone else's memories into your own mind had even greater ones - because once a memory was absorbed into a person's head, it basically belonged to them, and the mind would try to integrate it into their own experiences. They were not separated from it as an observer, they truly believed that the experience contained within the memory was their own, that they had lived it and participated in it. At the same time they might have a completely conflicting memory of the same events, or of related ones that could interfere, and their mind would rebel at the effort to reconcile two different inputs for the same event. Or to reconcile any conflicting emotions which the memories might engender. Only someone very trained at controlling their own mind - someone like a Legilimens or an Occlumens - knew how to avoid the consequences of having another person's memories within their mind. The untrained were a very different matter, because they would eventually lose any ability to distinguish between what was truly their own memory, and what belonged to someone else.

Madness would inevitably follow. It had happened before, unless the memory was quickly purged from the mind to which it did not belong, and returned to either a pensieve or to the rightful owner. Or were Obliviated, wiping the memories away entirely. Forever.

Sighing, Remus looked at Albus, face troubled. "So... either we have to find the person and retrieve my memory, or hope that they destroyed it of their own accord. Or that they have a pensieve available to them somewhere to put it in. Otherwise, we are sooner or later going to be dealing with a madman."

"I believe that is an accurate assessment," Dumbledore replied. "Severus is, at the moment the only person besides the person who stole the memory who might have a real clue as to who might have done it, and what their motives may have been."

And Severus is the one person who refuses to believe that Draco could be guilty, Remus thought with a sinking heart. Great. Now I'm completely stuck with no real way of dealing with this on my own, and the one person who can help me being completely blindered to the most obvious suspect.

"Thank you, Albus," Remus said, rising to his feet. "I suppose I need to go talk to Severus again. It's time for me to begin the Wolfsbane again, anyway."

"Let me know if there is anything I can do, dear boy. Please keep in mind the delicate balance among the Slytherins at the moment, as well."

"I will, Albus. I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything at all."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good luck, Remus."

"Thanks," Remus murmured, moving to the door. Somehow I get the feeling that I am going to need all the luck I can get.

\---

"So Severus said it wouldn't do any good to try to pull out his memory of my memory," Remus said, sighing. "Apparently the magic of the pensieve doesn't work that way. So now my memories are gone, and whoever stole them might be going slowly mad in the bargain."

"I see," Neville said, moving along the line of plants facing Remus, slowly and carefully watering each one.

Remus mirrored the action on the other side, face set in pensive lines. He appreciated the time in the greenhouses now more than ever, because it gave him a break from facing the students and analyzing each word and glance from each of them for possible hidden meanings or motivations. Being alone in his quarters was little better, for then not only was he plagued by worries surrounding who might be after him, he was also left to face the knowledge that he had killed Lucius Malfoy.

Among, apparently, a few others.

Escaping out among the plants was a help. It didn't solve anything, of course, but it gave him a brief respite. The humidity from the warm, moist air inside had fogged the chilled glass of the windows and roof, blocking out the evening-dark grounds of the school. It also leant an enormous, ringed halo to the moon high overhead, diffusing the harsh silvery light into something softer and seemingly more benign, making it seem less sterile and unforgiving. Remus was distracted by the sight for several long moments, until the memory of the moon brought back the memory of the potion, which brought his thoughts inevitably back to one person in particular.

Severus had been reticent about divulging the identities of the people he had killed to Remus, but had finally done so the previous evening after Remus' second dose of Wolfsbane potion for the month. Not that Remus had truly wanted to know, but things had progressed to the point where he truly had to know, for his own safety.

The knowledge wasn't easy, however. Not easy at all. Knowing that there were potentially three students - plus Draco, of course - who had become orphans as a direct result of your actions was not a pleasant thing to have to face.

"One of the things about it, though," Remus said, frowning thoughtfully, "is that is makes no sense, Neville. We aren't even sure which of the students even know that I had anything to do in the Final Battle, much less that I was in the position to... to...."

Remus couldn't say it, and he looked at Neville, eyes wide and troubled.

"You're not a killer, Remus," Neville said firmly. His gaze was serious, and his face set in firm lines. "You did what had to be done, but that doesn't make you evil, or a murderer. No more than I am for having to kill Bellatrix." Neville winced as though in great pain, one hand coming up to rub the side of his head.

"Are you all right?" Remus asked, all thoughts of his own problems forgotten in the face of Neville's distress. "Neville... what's wrong?"

"Headache," Neville replied hollowly, shuddering and closing his eyes. "Give m-me a m-moment, it'll p-pass."

Remus wasn't convinced of that, not as he watched Neville standing there, face squinched up in pain. Then Neville began to sway on his feet, and Remus dropped his watering can with a thud, rushing around the row of plants they had been attending to catch Neville by the waist and hold him upright. "Neville!" he gasped, deeply concerned at Neville's obvious distress. "Do you need to go to the infirmary to see Poppy? What's wrong? What can I do to help?"

"Hurts," Neville mumbled, turning into Remus' arms and laying his head down on Remus' shoulder. "Thoughts of B-b-Bellatrix a-always d-do that... D-doctors say from the c-curses s-she threw on m-me..."

"Do you want a pain potion? I can get one from Poppy, or run down to Severus and ask him," Remus replied.

"That would be rather fruitless, Lupin, considering that I am right here," Severus said, and Remus turned his head in relief to see the Potions Master standing in the door, a smoking goblet in his hands.

"Oh, thank Merlin, Severus," Remus said. He tightened his arms around Neville. "He's in a great deal of pain, from a headache. You don't happen to have anything with you, do you? Anything that would help?"

"As it just so happens, I do," Severus replied, stepping into the greenhouse and crossing to them. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Longbottom! Stop clinging to Lupin like you are one of your vines!" There was an edge to Severus' voice, and Remus flushed, wondering if Severus had thought there was more going on between them than Remus merely helping Neville out. Or if Severus was going to twit him about this incident, the way Severus had done over the time where he insisted Neville had been staring at Remus' arse. Of all the ridiculous notions in the world.

Remus thought Neville's arms tightened around him for a moment, before Neville released him and stepped back quickly. "I-I'm f-fine," he murmured. "I d-don't n-need a p-potion."

"Don't be ridiculous, Neville," Remus said. "You are obviously in pain, and you don't have to be."

"Here, Lupin... drink this," Severus said, thrusting the goblet of Wolfsbane potion into Remus' hands. "I brought it down because you were late, and now I see why. Ever playing savior to the masses. Gone on, drink it at once before it gets cold. I shall attend to Mr. Longbottom's apparent need."

Remus' fingers automatically curled around the warm goblet, taking it from Severus' hand. He caught the odd emphasis in Severus' statement and frowned, a question burning on the tip of his tongue. But he held it in check, not wanting to imply that he believed something was wrong, when it might just be Severus being annoyed at having had to come hunting for him to deliver the Wolfsbane.

"Right," Remus muttered, lifting the goblet to his lips. He drank the thick potion down in several long gulps, distracted for once from the taste as he watched Neville and Severus over the rim.

With a satisfied nod at Remus' acquiescence, Severus reached into one of the pockets of his voluminous robe and pulled out a small vial of deep blue glass, extending it toward Neville. "Here, Longbottom. Take this at once."

Neville hesitated, looking away. "I don't n-need it," he said, voice stilted. "R-really. T-thanks."

"Why ever not, Longbottom?" Severus asked. "Sure if I were going to poison you, I would hardly do it in front of a witness. What are you afraid of, hmmm? Anyone would think you were hiding something. It is a simple pain draught, after all. Not Veritaserum."

Remus finished the bitter potion, lowering the goblet quickly and taking a gasping breath. "Severus!" he choked out, throat burning from the Wolfsbane. "Really! Is this necessary?"

"I believe so," Severus replied, eyes flashing as they gazed at the younger wizard. "After all, Longbottom does not appear to want to take his medicine."

"Fine!" Neville said abruptly, practically tearing the vial from Severus' fingers. He pulled out the stopper, then downed the potion in a few quick swallows, before lowering it and glaring at Severus. Their eyes held for a few long moments, before Neville dropped his gaze again.

"Is that any better?" Remus asked.

"I'm fine," Neville responded, thrusting the vial back at Severus, then spinning on his heel. Neville picked up his watering can, then retreated to the opposite end of the greenhouse, leaving a dismayed Remus to face the Potions Master.

"Severus, what in Merlin's name was that all about?" Remus asked, perturbed on Neville's behalf. Despite his feelings for Severus, Remus was a bit upset that Severus would treat the younger wizard so callously, especially seeing that Neville had been in pain to begin with. "Sometimes I think that you enjoy baiting Neville even more than you ever did Harry."

Severus merely raised a brow sardonically. "Indeed, Lupin. Perhaps if you were a little less blindered by your affections, you would notice how Longbottom is playing on your emotions."

"He is not!" Remus replied. Resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder to see if Neville was listening, Remus nevertheless dropped his voice. "Severus... you've obviously been sniffing potions fumes for too long. For the last time, Neville is not interested in me." Remus paused, shaking his head in exasperation. "And even if he were, I don't see what business it is of yours. It's not like I'm interested in him, you know, not when I have other..."

Remus' voice trailed off as he flushed, realizing what he had almost said. He drew a breath, then looked up to find Severus staring at him, eyes dark and intense. "Do you?" Severus asked. "That is interesting, Lupin."

Remus bit back a groan. This was not the time nor the place for Severus to suddenly decide to indulge his curiosity; nor did Remus feel inclined to enlighten him, not when things were still so uncertain. He still had no idea where Severus stood, after all - and there was still the matter of Draco, looming in the background. Draco, who might or might not have tried to kill Remus. Draco, who may or may not occupy a rather intimate position in Severus' life.

Remus suddenly felt as though he could do with a pain draught himself. Dealing with the complications in his life was most definitely giving him a headache.

"Look, Severus," he sighed, shaking his head. "Just... drop it. Neville isn't interested in me, I'm not interested in him, and your continued baiting in the matter is just going to make Neville resent you even more than he already does." Remus held out the goblet. "Thank you for helping Neville, and thank you for bringing this up. I'm terribly sorry I was late, but... well, I got to talking and thinking, and I lost track of time. I won't let it happen again, I promise."

Remus watched as Severus' gaze flicked briefly to the back of the greenhouse, before returning once again to Remus' face. "Very well," he drawled, taking the goblet from Remus' hands. Severus raised his other hand then, brushing away a drop of the potion at the corner of Remus' lips with a caress of his long fingers. "I shall hold you to that, Lupin."

Remus nodded, dumbstruck at the feeling of Severus' warm fingers brushing his cheek. He stared up into Severus' face, eyes wide. "I... right," he said, not realizing what he was saying. Then he completely lost the capacity for speech as Severus lowered his head, pressing a swift, hard kiss to Remus' lips.

Oh. My. God Remus thought, stunned into immobility. Severus just... kissed me.

Before Remus could do more than blink in complete and utter shock, Severus had glanced up once again, then spun on his heel and left the greenhouse without a word. Remus stared after him, dazed, confused, and breathless, wondering what in the world had just happened, to precipitate that particular reaction from Severus, of all people. Part of him felt a tremendous surge of happiness and anticipation, and he raised his fingers to his lips, wondering for a moment if he had imagined the whole thing in a fit of wishful thinking.

Drawing a deep breath, Remus suddenly remembered where he was, and he felt heat rise in his cheeks, wondering what on earth Neville must have thought of that bizarre little display. Clearing his throat, he framed a smile on his lips and an apology in his head, ready to brush off the incident as Severus' idea of a strange joke. What other explanation could there be, after all?

"Sorry about that Neville," he said, turning. "I think he..." Remus stopped abruptly, blinking in surprise.

The rear of the greenhouse was empty. Neville had, apparently, left, and Remus had been so caught up in thoughts of Severus that he never even heard him go.


	9. Waxing Gibbous

Waxing Gibbous

Severus had kissed him.

_Severus_ had kissed him.

_Severus_ had _kissed_ him.

No matter how many times he repeated it, the thought made Remus smile.

It became a litany in Remus' mind, one that played through the rest of that evening and on through the entire night, spawning dreams in his fevered imagination that involved far more touching between them than the brief press of lips which had occurred. Dreams which caused him to wake in the night, hot and aching and sweating and terribly unfulfilled, yearning for a completion that only Severus could give him. Still it was a pleasurable torture, calling to mind as it did the fact that, no matter why it had happened, Severus had kissed him.

Remus went down to breakfast in the Great Hall early the next morning, anxious to catch sight of Severus. A distant part of his brain realized that he was pushing away far more serious matters in pursuit of something vague and rather intangible, but he needed the distraction; otherwise, he would just sit in his rooms brooding about everything, driving himself insane trying to figure out the why of what had occurred. Literally there was nothing he could do at this point except be careful and keep watch. Close watch.

And if he kept an eye on Severus at the same time, well... that was merely his reward for his diligence.

Remus still felt somewhat helpless, in a vague, indiscernible way. As he had explained to Neville, the fact that he now knew that there were four people who might - according to the rumor, at least - have a potential reason to want to see him dead didn't mean that any of the four had really been the ones to poison him. It was likely, but not certain, and as Albus had stressed there was a great deal riding on the line as far as the peace and stability of Slytherin House. To go in and start hurling accusations or even asking too many questions was dangerous as well.

Remus didn't feel unsafe, precisely, just frustrated with his inability to do anything to bring closure to the situation. The poison had almost succeeded because he had not taken the potential threat seriously enough. Now he did, and he was fairly confident of his own ability to protect against anything further happening. So it all basically came back to the fact that the worst part was knowing that he had unwittingly wrecked a child's life, and that there was nothing at all he could do to fix it.

Unless, of course, it was Draco after all. In which case Remus felt just as bad, but in a rather different way. And if it were Draco, Remus knew that the potential danger was far, far greater.

Pushing aside every thought of any unpleasantness - knowing there was going to be more than ample opportunity to brood about it later - Remus entered the Great Hall, his step light as he moved toward the Head Table. He smiled to himself as he noticed Severus in his normal seat among the faculty, sipping at a teacup and obviously already having begun his morning meal. Oddly enough, however, Draco was missing from his place next to Severus, but Remus only noted it peripherally as he took his seat. Unfortunately Remus' own place at the table was several removed from Severus', but that didn't mean that Remus couldn't glance over and try to catch Severus' eye during the meal. He wondered if perhaps that evening when he went for his Wolfsbane, if he and Severus could actually discuss this... whatever it was between them. Unless Remus was badly mistaking the signs - the kiss most obvious of all - Severus really did share Remus' attraction; it might be time to actually try to talk about it, at least in vague terms. Barring that, Remus would settle for more kissing for now. He would like a chance to return what Severus had so freely given the night before.

It was a good plan, and it worked at least once at the beginning of the meal. Remus gazed sidelong down the length of the table and found Severus looking in his direction, so he turned his head and smiled at the Potions Master. This earned him a raised brow and a bit of a smirk from Severus, and an amused twinkle from Dumbledore, who sat between them.

Remus was actually considering getting up and moving to Draco's empty seat in order to be closer to Severus, when he heard Neville mutter something from beside him. Turning, Remus gave the younger wizard an inquiring smile. "Did you say..."

Before Remus could finish his question there was a sudden, piercing shriek of anger, and a fight broke out at the Slytherin table. Not just a minor scuffle, either, but what appeared to be a full fledged brawl, with both flying fists and flying hexes shooting back and forth among the participants - which appeared to be most of the House.

In a moment it seemed that the entire population of the Great Hall was on its feet, yelling and screaming. Many of the younger students at the Hufflepuff table - which stood next to Slytherin - started to cry in confusion, especially when stray jinxes spilled over into their area. Food was hurled everywhere, either as weapons or from being shoved out of the way as students fled the combat zone. The din was incredible, and Remus stared with the rest of the instructors, too surprised for a moment to do anything except gawk at the unbelievable chaos.

"SILENCE," Dumbledore roared, in a voice Remus had never heard from the Headmaster before. It shook the rafters and reverberated in a thunderous echo, causing several people to wince and clap their hands over their ears. It also had the effect of causing everyone to freeze, as fearful, disbelieving faces from all over the room swivelled towards the Head Table, where Dumbledore stood glaring at the Slytherin table, his face hard and his eyes full of steel.

Anyone who might have ever held doubts that Dumbledore was still the strongest Wizard in the world lost them in that moment. The normally gentle Headmaster glared down like the god Zeus from Olympus, looking ready to mete out a most severe punishment to anyone who dared disobey him. The entire faculty even stood utterly still, frozen in shock, and the silence Dumbledore had commanded was absolute.

"This is completely unacceptable," Dumbledore said, staring down at the students. "Never in all my years as Headmaster have I witnessed such a display. An entire House, brawling amongst themselves! This is inexcusable, and it will not be tolerated. I fully realize that there are disagreements between many of you, over some issues that have been long cherished by your families, as well as some commendable idealism about the necessity of change. However this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. All classes are cancelled for today. Slytherins, you will return directly and at once to your House common room, where I am certain that Professor Snape will quickly get to the bottom of this altercation. The injured will be taken to the infirmary and placed in Madam Pomfrey's care. As for the other Houses, you are dismissed to your own devices, as though this were a Sunday. Stay out of trouble, and the dungeons are completely off limits to anyone not of Slytherin or a member of the faculty. Go on. You are dismissed."

Remus watched, wide eyed, as Severus stalked over to the Slytherin table, his face dark with fury. This was the very kind of thing Dumbledore had been hoping to avoid, and was exactly the reason for which Remus had been unwilling to hurl accusations about his attacker. Now it had boiled over anyway, and there was going to be a reckoning in some way, if Severus' expression were anything to go by. The kid gloves had been stripped away, by the students themselves. It was no doubt going to be extremely unpleasant.

"To the dungeons at once - and anyone who so much as utters a word is not only in detention for the rest of the year," Severus spat at the suddenly cowed Slytherin's, "You will also lose any and all remaining House points that the Headmaster deems fit to leave us after this incomprehensible idiocy! Move now, at once!"

The silence continued as the Slytherins shuffled out of the Hall, most of them with their faces downcast, refusing to meet the eyes of their schoolmates. Without a word the Slytherin Prefects moved to collect the injured, faces white and wooden.

The other houses remained on their feet, watching with shock, awe, and in some cases sympathy as the Slytherins moved out. Remus wasn't certain if the sympathy were because of the fight, or because of the obvious tongue-lashing that was awaiting them from their volatile Head of House.

Severus was the last to go, trailing his charges. He turned to give Dumbledore a grim look and a nod, before the dark eyes seemed to seek out Remus. Remus thought there was the barest tip of Severus' head for him, as well, before Severus whirled in a flurry of black robes and made his departure.

Everyone else stood, still stunned, for a long moment, before casting uneasy glances at the Head Table. Dumbledore's expression softened, and he gave a faint smile and nod before making a shooing motion with his hands. "Go on, then," he told the students. "Nothing to worry about. We'll have this sorted out and you'll be back in classes tomorrow - so make certain that your homework is done!"

There was relief clearly written on many faces, but the mood was still subdued as the other Houses filed out, murmuring quietly among themselves. When the Hall was finally clear of all save the faculty, Dumbledore motioned the massives doors closed with a wave of his hand, then sank wearily back into his seat. The sigh the Headmaster gave was very speaking, and the blue eyes were grave as he glanced at the remainder of his staff.

"Things, it would appear, have reached a head," he said, pinching his nose above his glasses for a moment, looking every bit as harried and frustrated as Remus remembered from during the final days of the war. "I had hoped to avoid such a loud, public outburst, but I feared it was inevitable. Passions in the young run high, after all. Perhaps after this we can get through until the holidays, at least, in peace."

"Do you believe so, Albus?" Minerva asked, her face drawn down into a frown. "That was a completely unprecedented..."

"I know, I know," Dumbledore said. "However, better here than the Quidditch stands. Someone could have really been seriously injured out there. I trust that this incident will lead Severus to the main leaders on either side of the issue. He was have a talk with them - a talk such as only Severus can have, no doubt - and they will either toe the line, or be expelled."

"Expelled?" Flitwick repeated, his tufted brows rising all the way into his hairline. "You've never expelled a student in all the years you've been Headmaster!"

"Yes, I know," Dumbledore replied, looking at each of his staff very seriously. "This, however, cannot be let stand. I will not have set up for another blood feud the likes of which gave rise to Voldemort in the first place. We will end this somehow, and it may take some time... but one way or another, we will end it. I will not see the defeat of Voldemort give rise to another Dark Lord, the way that Grindelwald's defeat set the stage for Voldemort. I will put a stop to this, once and for all."

From the implacable tone of the Headmaster's voice, Remus had no doubt that Albus was going to do everything in his power to make absolutely certain that he did.

\---

"You look exhausted, Severus. Is there anything at all I can do to help? Grade papers? Take your detentions? Bring you dinner? Bring you bottles of firewhiskey?" _I'll even serve you breakfast in bed, if I can be in there with you._

Remus looked at the normally pale Potions Master, who over the last few days since the brawl in the Great Hall had grown even paler and more haggard looking than ever. The entire castle was feeling the effects of what had happened, but it of course affected the Slytherins most of all. And as Head of House, Severus bore the brunt of the frazzled nerves, irrational outburts, and adolescent tears. All these things were expected in small doses for a Head to have to cope with, but the aftermath of this, which included the explusion of one Seventh Year Slytherin who it was determined had thrown the first punch and wouldn't apologize or repent, was taking a definite toll.

When not in class the Slytherins were restricted to the Dungeons and to the areas immediately outside, and had to obtain specific, written permission to go anywhere else in the school. The House came to meals together, and left together, which was a spectacle that Remus could easily tell humiliated them greated. Severus had also decided that one adult would always be in the House common room, even sleeping there at night to insure that peace was kept and that nothing untoward was being plotted in revenge. This meant that Severus, Draco, and Filch each had to take on that duty in turn, in addition to their own. Severual of the teachers - including Remus - had offered to assist, but both Severus and Draco had been adamant. It was a Slytherin problem, and Slytherins would take care of their own.

The result, however, had meant an increasing amount of strain on Severus and Draco both; Filch, perversely, seemed to enjoy the opportunity to chastise students in their own House, since as a Squib he had never attended the school as a pupil. Filch's family, however, was all Slytherin, and as such he was accepted by them as having the necessary authority, whereas a Gryffindor definitely would not.

Two nights a week of bad or interrupted sleep, added to having a full round of classes to teach and papers to grade and scuffles to hand was starting to cause visible strain on Severus, however. The deepest of his frown lines, which had seemed to ease after the war, were back in full force. Severus looked almost as if he had been exposed to multiple rounds of Cruciatus - and he probably felt about that bad as well.

Glancing up from the cauldron of Wolfsbane, Severus shook his head, and the mere whisper of a sigh parted his lips. "I will admit that this is most taxing, Lupin," he said, before turning his attention back to the Wolfsbane. "On odd benefit to it, however, is that not only does it mean that your poisoner is quite likely under twenty-four hour supervision, therefore lessening the threat to your life, it also puts me in the position of being able to ask hard questions and expecting certain answers. I have no doubt that with the judicious employment of Legilimency, I shall find your attacker in due course. With no one else being any the wiser, as well."

Remus nodded, his gratitude plan to see on his face. I really appreciate that, Severus. I know it will take time. There are a great many Slytherins, after all, and only one of you. With everything else that you have to do, it's an unbelievable stress. Which is why I want to help. Just tell me how I can, and I'll do it. Anything at all."

A corner of Severus' mouth lifted briefly, as he ladeled up the potion into the familiar goblet and handed it to Remus. "Drink this, without complaining. That will help quite a bit."

"Next to the last dose anyway," Remus said, chuckling. "But I will be a good boy, Severus. Unless you don't want me to be a good boy, in which case I'm open to suggestions."

Severus snorted, and Remus grinned unrepentantly, downing the potion with no further comment. He regretted the fact that with everything that had occurred, he hadn't had any real opportunity to bring up the kiss to Severus. It seemed that Severus always had to rush away somewhere, and so for the last few days Severus had drunk the potion with a minimum of polite chit chat, knowing that Severus had duties to attend to. For once, however, it seemed as though Severus might have a few minutes; and while Remus wanted to bring up the kiss immediately, he knew it probably would be too jarring, like he was pouncing on Severus quite unawares. So he would have to be slow, and subtle, and back off instantly if Severus seemed unreceptive. It wasn't much of a plan, Remus acknowledged ruefully, but it was better than nothing.

Sitting the empty goblet back on the take, Remus stood up from the stool Severus had motioned him to upon his arrival. "Well, if there is nothing I can do for you, Severus.... perhaps there is something helpful I could do to you instead."

Severus' brows - both of them for once - ascended to his hairline at Remus' pronouncement. "Is that so?" he asked, and Remus thought he detected definite amusedment underlying the familiar dry tone. Crossing his arms over his chest, Severus seemed to relax slightly as he gave Remus a challenging look. "And what could you possible do to me that would be helpful? Cloning is a proscribed magic, you know, ever since the whole Doppleganger incident."

Grinning, Remus motioned to the stool. "Sit down, Severus, and let Dr. Lupin take care of you. Come on, don't look so skeptical. I don't bite... well, not until tomorrow at any rate. You're perfectly safe."

Severus looked decidely skeptical, but at the same time a bit of the tension seemed to leave him, and he appeared to relax minutely as he gave in to Remus' light bantering. "That is a matter of opinion," he said dryly, but he moved to the stool Remus had vacated, sitting down on it gingerly and giving Remus a look. "What now, Lupin? And what is with this 'Doctor' nonsense? You have no Muggle degrees of which I am aware."

"It's a figure of speech, Severus," Remus replied, not losing his mischevious smile. Moving to stand behind Severus - who turned to look at him warily - Remus raised a hand and twirled his finger in a circle. "Turn back around, and relax. I can't do this properly if you are sitting all cockeyed."

"Do what?" Severus asked. "Lupin, if this is your idea of a joke, it is decidedly not amusing."

"No joke, Severus. Gryffindor's honor. Just turn around and relax, and I am going to touch your shoulders for a few moments and relieve the tension."

There was a small glimmer in the dark eyes that Remus couldn't interpret, before Severus gave in and turned to face forward. "I have no idea why I am letting you talk me into this," the Potions Master groused. "I must be more tired than I thought. I can just imagine what Albus would say if.... oh. Yes, there. Right there."

Remus' grin widened as he began to work on the tense knots in Severus' shoulders, and Severus almost immediately gasped in response. Remus felt Severus slump beneath his hands, as his fingers pressed firmly and unrelentingly into the tight muscles. "See... I know what I'm doing."

"Perhaps," Severus said, then snorted. "To the left, Lupin. And higher on the right side." There was a purring undercurrent evident in his voice, and Remus wondered suddenly if Severus liked to be petted, like a great black cat. He was certainly responding quickly and easily to the massage, and Remus was utterly delighted - as well as extremely eager to discover more. Where Severus liked to be touched... how he liked to be touched. Where Severus enjoyed firm pressure and where even the most delicate of touches could elicit a gasp of overstimulation.

Automatically Remus' hands followed Severus' instructions, easing the knots he encountered with firm, sure strokes. One advantage of lycanthrope strength and dexterity was that it meant he could give what he had been told were truly spine-melting massages, a fact for which he had never been as grateful as he was now.

All the better to seduce you with, my dear...

"Now go lower, over the shoulder," Severus ordered, still in that velvety, rumbling tone that sent a pleasurable tingle down Remus' own spine. Remus didn't even mind that Severus, in very Severus-like fashion, insisted on directing his actions. He was so pleased that Severus seemed to be enjoying the attentions that Remus would have let Severus order him to touch him anywhere, in any way Severus wanted.

"Like that?" Remus asked, leaning over slightly so that his mouth wasn't too far from Severus' ear. "Do you want me to do it harder?"

With that, Remus pressed firmly into a particular large knot just below Severus' shoulder blade, feeling it loosen and listening with satisfaction as Severus hissed in pleasure. The sound was music to Remus' ears, and he felt a certain tension washing over his own body in response.

Careful... mustn't go too quickly.

"I have been told I have talented hands," Remus continued, smirking slightly. "What do you think?"

"I think you are a bloody sadistic little tea..."

Severus response was interrupted as the door to Severus' office flew open, and Draco - once again out of breath, Remus noticed - looked in. "Severus... you'd better come quickly. We found the hellebore, or what's left of it. Just as you thought we would."

"What?" Remus gasped, and Severus rose quickly, moving away toward the door. Draco had turned and left once more, sparing Remus little but a sneer. "Severus, what did he mean?"

"I shall explain later," Severus replied, turning to give Remus an unfathomable look. "Right now I must go and deal with this. It will no doubt take some time, so I suspect it will be very late before I get finished. Tomorrow is Saturday. Can you come back here around four o'clock? I have to be with my House until then, since I have restricted them from Hogsmeade, but Draco will take over for me at that time. I'll explain everything then. At that point, everything will be all take care of."

"All right," Remus replied slowly, a coil of tension winding tightly in his gut. The pleasure of only moments ago was a mere memory now, and Remus wondered wildly if his stolen memory had turned up as well. "But, can't I come with you now? This is about the poisoning, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Severus responded. "Lupin... Remus... I cannot explain right now, other than to say that Slytherins take care of Slytherins. Your presence would make things more difficult than they are going to be, but rest assured you are no longer in any danger. Can you trust me on that? And meet me here tomorrow?"

Remus hesitated, very torn. He wanted to know what was going on at once, but at the same time he understood. He could imagine how the Gryffindor students would react if Minerva drew Severus in to give them the third degree. So, as little as he cared for waiting to know what was happening, Remus nodded.

"All right, Severus," he responded, sighing. "Tomorrow."

With a nod, Severus departed, almost running out of the office.

It wasn't until he was back in his own quarters that Remus realized, with a shock of pleasure, that Severus had, for the first time in almost thirty years, called him by his given name.


	10. Blue Moon

Blue Moon

"So, what are you planning to do today?" Neville asked. "Anything exciting planned? Going into Hogsmeade with the students again, or will you be just hanging about the castle?"

Remus looked up from his breakfast of toast, eggs, and ham - heavy on the ham, given the fact that it was another full moon - and shook his head before giving Neville a lopsided smile. "No, I don't think so. Lovely as a visit to Honeydukes always is, I've had quite enough of Hogsmeade at the moment, truth be told. I was actually considering heading to Diagon Alley for a change. I haven't been to Flourish & Blott's in ages, and there are some new Defense books out that I would love to take a look at to see if they would add to my curriculum. First I believe I will get all caught up on my marking this morning, then head to London. Treat myself to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, perhaps, then while away the pleasant hours in the company of dusty old tomes and the company of the printed page." Remus' smile became somewhat self-deprecating, and he chuckled. "And does that sound terribly stodgy and professorish of me or what?"

Neville smiled back at Remus, a faint trace of pink in his cheeks. "Terribly so. But you say that like it's a bad thing. Some of us quite like stodgy old professors, you know. Tweed and cardigans and the whole bit."

Remus chuckled, shaking his head at Neville's description of him. "Not a bad thing, no, although I've dropped the tweed and cardigans bit. You're a professor yourself, of course, but you're still young and energetic. Not like us older folk."

"Yes, yes I am," Neville replied, a pleased smile curving his lips. "I find that I quite like it, really. I love Hogwarts, I love being here. The greenhouses are wonderful, teaching is very interesting, the faculty is excellent, and the students are terrific... well, most of them anyway."

Remus' gaze followed Neville's to the Slytherin table, and Remus had no doubt as to what Neville was referring. The students there sat subdued and silent, their quiet, almost chastised air in stark contrast to the atmosphere of only a week prior. In fact, the whole of Slytherin House was at breakfast together, as per Severus' decree that they were all going to share in the punishment. This was quite unlike the other House tables, which had the usual Saturday mayhem of students flowing back and forth as they ate quickly and dashed off again, anxious to be about their own pursuits. It was rather sobering, actually, and Remus looked at them with sympathy. Severus was indeed a hard taskmaster, and once a punishment was decreed, Severus never went back on it for any reason.

Severus himself wasn't at breakfast, presumably having other matters to attend to. Likewise Dumbledore and Minerva were both absent from the meal, having been called to London to a special inquiry at the Ministry of Magic - on a Saturday, no less - to explain about the brawl which had broken out earlier in the week. Remus fervently hoped that the school wasn't in for more interference from the Ministry again, thinking back to the horror of the last time that they had stuck their annoying, arrogant noses into Dumbledore's business. Remus often thought that the war had been won despite the Ministry of Magic's best efforts to lose it for them all.

Draco was the only other adult present at the Head Table, apparently having been charged by Severus with the duty of tending the Slytherins in Severus' absence. Being around the blond wizard still bothered Remus on several levels, making him feel vaguely and distressingly uncomfortable whenever he was in Draco's presence. Remus still felt guilt over Lucius' death, certainly, but there was also the underlying core of undeniable jealousy and suspicion that Remus couldn't help feeling. Jealousy over Severus, and Draco's seeming interest in him... suspicion because Draco had proven since childhood that he was the kind of person who would go to any lengths to eliminate someone that he considered competition. Harry could certainly attest to that, and Remus had heard many times over the years of the horrid things that Draco and his cronies had done to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Which sort of threw doubt on any belief that Draco was suddenly a paragon of selfless virtue now, no matter what he had done in the War.

But when all was said and done, in the end it all came down to Remus having no proof whatsoever that Draco had actually done anything to him, or had even attempted to do anything. Suspicion, hearsay, rumor in abundance, but there was absolutely nothing that Remus could point to as tangible proof that Draco was the one who wished him harm. Any confrontation would wind up as his word against Draco's, no doubt with fingerpointing and firm denial, which was no way to prove anything at all. Especially not when Severus himself had come down so clearly and firmly on Draco's side, a fact which didn't help matters one little bit in Remus' opinion. Not on either the jealousy or suspicion fronts.

Still, Severus had claimed on the previous evening to have all the answers, and he had promised to give those answers to Remus this evening. Hopefully it was only a matter of mere hours until Remus could put all of this behind him. Severus' words, and especially the use of Remus' given name had hardly been a declaration of intent... well, at least it wouldn't be from anyone who was not Severus Snape. If Remus was reading the signs correctly, Severus was interested in something between them, but wanted to have the matter of the threat to Remus' life and the turmoil within Slytherin settled before they began anything. Which, all things considered, was probably a very wise, logical choice.

Remus never before would have believed that he could hate wisdom and logic so much.

He suddenly became aware of Neville asking him a question, and, flushing slightly, he turned to face his colleague with an apologetic smile. "Er, sorry Neville, I was woolgathering... which is also another terribly professorish habit, I fear. One would think I was Dumbledore's age, although I despise Sherbet Lemons. Now, what were you saying?"

"I, er, asked if you would mind having company in London," Neville said, flushing as well. No doubt the request was quite embarassing for the normal shy Gryffindor, and Remus smiled reassuringly.

"Certainly, Neville, that would be lovely. We could have lunch together if you would like, although I fear you might get terribly bored when I'm in the bookstore. I do tend to rather shut out everything else when I'm reading, unfortunately. You could drop a brink on my head and I would never notice it at all."

"That's really quite all right," Neville said, his embarassment quickly giving way to a pleased smile. "I have some errands to run as well. There are some new hybrid plant species I would like to get a look at over at Leaves & Bloom's, and I was considering getting a, er, friend. For Trevor, you know. Since I am spending so much time teaching, he seems to be pining a bit."

"Does he now?" Remus replied, grinning. Neville's affection for his toad was rather cute. "A lady friend, I take it? Time for the old boy to finally settle down and raise a family? That sly little bugger, hope he's sown all his wild oats. Or whatever it is that toads sow."

"Er, yeah, something like that," Neville replied, chuckling and flushing again. "I just don't want him to be lonely. No one should ever have to be alone, you know?" There was a momentary pause, and Remus thought he saw something flash in Neville's eyes, but then Neville was speaking again, his face wreathed in a pleased smile. "So we're on, then?"

"We are," Remus said, nodding. No doubt Neville was somewhat lonely as well. No doubt London would be good for the younger wizard, getting out among people who weren't either his students or his stodgy old colleagues. "What do you say to eleven o'clock? That will give me time to finish up my grading, and we can hit the Leaky Cauldron for an early lunch."

"That would be brilliant," Neville said, smiling widely. "Shall I come to your quarters?"

"I'll be in my office. Meet me there, and we can go directly via floo." Remus rose to his feet, straightening his robes. "I'd best be about my marking, then. See you at eleven."

"See you then. Don't be late, since I shall no doubt be famished and I can get quite cranky at the full moon when I haven't been fed properly. Cranky werewolves are definitely not good company, or so I've been told. So consider yourself warned."

Neville chuckled. "I will so consider. Don't worry, Remus. You at your crankiest is milder than Snape in a jolly mood. After enduring seven years of him, I do believe I can handle almost anyone's moods!"

"No doubt." Remus gave Neville a small smile, then turned to leave the table. He passed by Draco on his way out, and caught the tail end of a cynical look from the Slytherin's silver eyes.

Silver. Dangerous to werewolves. It almost seemed like an omen.

Against his will, Remus shivered, shoving aside such fanciful notions. The color of Draco's eyes had absolutely nothing to do with his intentions, good or ill, towards Remus. I am getting almost as bad as Trelawney, seeing doom in everything and Death at every turn. I really do need to get away from the school for a while, and regain my sense of perspective.

Still, as he left the Great Hall, Remus couldn't help the slightly ominous thought that the color of Draco's eyes gave the phrase "If looks could kill" a whole new level of meaning.

\---

_... and so it is obvious from the context that not only did the ancient Celts employ certain Dark curses which mirror ones in the modern lexicon, but that they were quite capable of improvisation in both spell and ritual, far in excess of what most academics currently believe is fact…_

Rubbing his eyes, Remus closed the book he was holding - _Ancient Celtic Magic and Its Application to Defensive Magic_ \- and sighed. His concentration wasn't what it normally was, and his attempt to flee into his normal escape of reading wasn't working out quite as he had planned. This despite the incredible array of volumes at his disposal, tucked away as he was in an upstairs room at Flourish  & Blott's. All the printed words in the world couldn't serve to take his mind completely off his upcoming meeting with Severus, and anticipation had him eager and on edge.

Remus relaxed in the comfortable leather chair, head tilting back so that his gaze fell on the high, beamed ceiling overhead. But his attention was all turned inward, as he tried to imagine how the conversation with Severus only a short hour or so from now would go. Was the danger really past, as Severus had said? And if it were, would that mean that Severus would be ready to have their relationship progress?

Sighing slightly, Remus closed his eyes. Really, there was no point in speculation. Very soon he would know everything there was to know - he just wished that the time would hurry up and arrive already. The day had been remarkably tedious.

Lunch with Neville had been fine, with the younger wizard seeming positively animated. There was a glimmer of excitement in Neville's eyes, such that Remus began to wonder if the young man had plans to meet with someone. Not that Remus could blame Neville at all. After the kind of life Neville had lead and everything he had suffered, Remus was thrilled that Neville might actually have found someone to share his life.

After their meal they had parted, Neville to his errands and Remus to the book store. Neville said that he would rejoin Remus at Flourish & Blott's, so that they could floo back to Hogwarts together.

"Take care, Remus," Neville had said outside the store. "You need to keep a lookout, even here. I... I worry about Draco trying to hurt you again. In fact, do you want me to stay and keep you company?"

Remus had stiffened at the mention of Draco, having hoped to put the whole situation out of his mind for a few hours. Still, he couldn't bring himself to resent Neville for having reminded him, not when Neville was so concerned and seemed completely willing to blow off his entire day just to watch Remus read.

"Oh, heavens no, Neville," he had said, reaching out to squeeze Neville's arm in gratitude. "Really, it's all under control. Severus told me last night that he's sure he knows what is going on, and he'll let me know later today."

Neville's lips had twisted in reaction to Severus' name much in the same way Remus had reacted to Draco's name. "Well, I don't know about what all is going on there. Draco seems... a bit odd, don't you think? The way he glares at you is just... it can't be good, Remus. If you would feel safer with company, I'll happily remain."

"No, no, you go on," Remus said. "Really, Neville, there is nothing to worry about, although I appreciate your concern. I can't go looking into corners for shadows the rest of my life, can I? Draco... well, I'll just have to deal with his anger at me when the time is right. Which now definitely isn't. Go on, be about your business."

Still Neville had hesitated, until Remus had given him a stern look and pointed down the street, as though ordering a recalcitrant puppy to go to bed. Neville had smiled slightly at that. "All right... but be careful, please. Better safe than sorry, as they say."

"So they do," Remus replied. "Don't worry, Neville. Everything will be fine."

Remus, left to his own devices as Neville finally went on his way, had shaken off his tense mood and set about doing what he normally did in a book store, which was to read everything he could get his hands on. Normally he could lose himself for hours in tales of adventure or mundane dissertations. It didn't matter what the subject, Remus had a hunger for the printed word which had consumed him for years, and Flourish & Blott's was second only to Honeydukes in Remus' estimation of the Best Places in the World.

But today time, instead of flying fleetly as a hippogryff, seemed to crawl by as slowly as a bundimun. Remus found himself glancing repeatedly at his pocket watch, counting the hours until he could head back to the school. Time had never seemed to drag so slowly before, and he found himself fidgeting and unable to concentrate.

A soft, rhythmic noise like footsteps nearby caused Remus to open his eyes, and he lifted his head and glanced around, frowning. "Hello?" he said, not seeing anyone in evidence. There was no reply, however, and Remus sighed again, shaking his head. Great, now I'm starting to hear things, he thought in wry disgust. That shows my paranoia has gone quite too far.

Pushing himself up from the chair, Remus stretched, cracking his spine and then shaking out his shoulders. Another glance at his watch showed still over an hour until Four o'clock. He sighed, looking around the little room and considering just going to find Neville and heading back early. But no... if Neville really had come here to meet someone, Remus didn't want to spoil any planned tryst by acting like a nervous fool, all over a few sounds. It would be much better if he could just find a book that could take his mind off of things. Shaking his head, Remus looked at the nearby shelves, then moved toward them with little of his normal enthusiasm.

The Defense books had been arranged with the more elementary tomes near the base of the shelves, and the advanced theses at the top. A rather high top, as it turned out, requiring a ladder to reach. Most of the books Remus was interested in were, of course, on these upper shelves, and he grinned wryly. Oh, the heavy price of knowledge.

Quickly and deftly mounting the rungs of the ladder, Remus surveyed the titles on the uppermost shelf for several long moments. The books within reach were mostly dissertations on various Dark creatures by authors outside of England, and Remus spared a grin at the lack of works by one Gilderoy Lockhart. Having recently had one of his own memories stolen, it was easy to indulge in just a moment of petty dislike for a man who had stolen memories from so very many people, purely for his own gain. Really, the man had gotten exactly what he deserved in the end.

Remus' eyes continued to scan over the spines, titles and authors names embossed upon the rich leather in lustrous, gleaming gold, searching until something - anything, really - piqued his interest. He was almost to the the end of the top row before he found anything, and he reached out gingerly to pluck a very large book on Continental Curses from between its companions. He braced himself with a hip against the ladder - lycanthrope dexterity being a rather handy thing at times - and flipped the book open, holding it in both hands while he glanced down the table of contents.

Concentrating on the descriptions of the various sections, Remus didn't hear anything at all out of the ordinary until the faint sound of a bump against a nearby shelf brought his head around in surprise. Simultaneously he heard a harshly whispered "Petrificus Totalus!", and felt a sense of horrified dread as he realized that he had been caught out, unaware and completely defenseless against the sudden, unexpected attack.

Well, apparently Neville was right to worry after all, he thought vaguely.

Unable to deflect the spell without his wand, Remus felt the curse take effect, freezing all his muscles as hard as stone. Unfortunately this was not stable for his position on the ladder, and his rigid, unresponsive body tumbled to the ground. Not even his normally fast reflexes could help him, given the jinx which had robbed him of any ability to react, stolen away any chance of saving himself from a fall from his precarious perch on the ladder. He couldn't even close his eyes to shut out the sight of the floor rushing up to meet him, and his head struck hard and painfully on the wooden floor. If he could have cried out he would have, as the heavy book he had been holding feel with him, crashing down on his ribs with painful force.

The last thing he was aware of before his vision faded to grey, and then to deep, unrelenting black, was a flash of black robes and white blond hair, the vibration of footsteps receding into the distance, and the horrifying sound of a hissing voice giving an amused chuckle of pure satisfaction.

\---

The first thing Remus saw when he opened his eyes was Neville gazing down at him, eyes anxious and brow furrowed in concern.

"Remus? Remus, what happened? Did you fall?" Neville asked frantically, and Remus winced as a sharp pain sliced through his head.

"Fell. Petrificus," Remus muttered, closing his eyes again and breathing deeply. He found himself very grateful that it was the day of the full moon, because it meant he could endure more pain and damage than he might at other times. He knew that he was incredibly lucky that the fall hadn't broken his neck.

"Don't go to sleep, Remus!" Neville commanded in a surprisingly firm voice, and Remus winced again.

"Not... I'm not... Neville. Give me... a few minutes," he murmured, continuing to draw long, deep breaths in through his mouth, while mentally he tried to assess how badly he was injured. Remus was no stranger at all to waking up broken and battered, and he carefully moved fingers, then toes, then twitched the muscles of his arms, legs, and back.

Well, he wasn't paralyzed and nothing appeared broken. No doubt the bruises would be spectacular, and the impact of his head had given his brains a rattling, but the damage seemed to be mostly superficial. The fact that it had been maliciously caused by someone who seemed determined to kill him he avoided for the moment.

Remus pulled himself up into a sitting position, continuing the deep inhalations and exhalations in order to fight the nausea that the motion caused. Opening his eyes, he glanced about, seeing only he and Neville.

"Time?" he asked, turning his gaze to Neville.

"Ten past three," Neville replied immediately. "When did this happen? You said Petrificus? Did someone hex you on purpose?"

"Happened just before three," Remus said, trying to think past the headache that thrummed behind his eyes. He blinked at Neville. "Did you see... anything? Anything at all?"

"N-no," Neville replied. "You were alone when I got up here, and for a moment, I thought... I thought you were dead." There was anguish on Neville's face, and Remus, touched, laid a comforting hand on Neville's arm in spite of his own pain.

"Takes more than that to kill me," Remus replied, then hissed and put a hand to his head as it throbbed. "It sure hurts like hell, though."

"What did you see? Do you know who did it? Anything?" Neville asked, frowning.

"I didn't see much, really. Black robes, blond hair..." Shaking his head, Remus let Neville draw the obvious conclusion. "It could have been Draco, but I can't prove anything. All I'm certain of it that the person was male, and blond, and wearing black. Anything else is speculation."

"Maybe not," Neville replied suddenly, looking at Remus with wide eyes. "But first, how are you feeling? Should I get you a pain potion?"

"I'll get one back at the school," Remus replied, eyes narrowing as he looked at Neville. "What did you mean, maybe not? Did you see something, or think of something?"

Neville nodded. "Malfoy has all that long, blond hair like his father. If he was hiding up here, waiting to attack you, maybe there is a strand or two on the floor up here, somewhere. If we can find it..."

"That would be proof enough," Remus replied, nodding grimly. He ignored the pain and pulled his wand from his sleeve. "Well, here goes nothing. If this works, then I definitely owe you, Neville." Remus paused, taking a deep breath and raising his wand. "Accio Draco Malfoy hair!"

Several long, blond strands lifted from the wooden floor and flew to Remus' hand. Remus drew in a trouble breath, not having thought that it would actually work. But it had, a he stared down at the golden hairs in his hand for a long moment, before looking up at Neville. The younger wizard smiled triumphantly, but for some reason he couldn't fathom Remus himself felt disturbed and uneasy.

"Well, I suppose that's it, then. Shall we head back to the castle?" Neville asked. He gave Remus a curious look, but didn't ask why Remus looked so pensive.

Pensive didn't begin to describe what Remus felt. The easy part was over. He had his proof. Now he had to confront Draco with it... and it was going to be one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

~*~*~*~*~

After Flooing back to Hogwarts, Remus bid Neville farewell, telling the younger wizard that he would see him the next day, when they would both go to Albus with the evidence. Neville had tried to get Remus to go to the infirmary, or - barring that - to allow Neville to stay with him until his headache had subsided. Remus was touched and grateful for Neville's concern, but he assured Neville that he would be fine, that he would take a potion and rest until it was time to go to his office for his transformation. With obvious reluctance Neville had nodded, and headed off, leaving Remus alone.

Remus quickly downed a pain potion in his quarters - he always had them on hand near a full moon - and headed off to find Severus. It was still a half hour before Severus was expecting him, but Remus figured the news he had to impart couldn't wait. Remus wasn't certain why he had been reluctant to tell Neville that he was going to see Severus, but something made him hold his tongue. Perhaps it was Neville's dislike of Severus, and the fact that Neville would no doubt, despite that dislike, have insisted upon accompanying him. Or perhaps it was he was virtually certain that Neville would have been most upset to know that Remus intended to tell Severus everything that had happened.

Remus had debated hard with himself about whether or not he should approach Severus about the proof he had concerning Draco, or go directly to Albus first with the evidence. On the one hand he knew he really should go to Albus; Albus had the authority and the power to do what was necessary. On the other hand, Severus had a great emotional attachment to Draco, and Remus felt compelled, due to his own feelings for Severus, to at least give Severus fair warning about what he had discovered. Severus would no doubt be upset, possibly even angry; however, Remus was positive that Severus would do the right thing.

Remus was no stranger to betrayal. He remembered his fury at Sirius, so long ago, when he had thought that Sirius had betrayed James and Lily and had killed Peter. Then his anger at Peter when the truth was discovered. He had come so close to killing then, he and Sirius both. If Harry hadn't stopped them they would have done it, would have ended Peter's life right then and there and they all might have been better off, in the long run.

It wasn't long before Remus' quick steps brought him to the dungeons, the cool, dank air fanning over his flushed, heated cheeks. The wolf was rising within him, he could feel it as the moon drew ever closer, but it was still almost three hours until moonrise, so he was safe. Remus had even been taking the precaution since returning to the school of conjuring up a Portkey, one which would pull him automatically back to his locked and warded office in plenty of time, in case he lost track of time or were caught out somewhere and wouldn't be able to make it back to safety.

The corridors were empty and silent, an odd occurrence at any time but particularly for a Saturday. Severus apparently hadn't relaxed his restriction of the Slytherins to their dormitories. Remus consciously slowed a bit in order to move more quietly, not liking to feel as though his footsteps were echoing in the empty hallway. He could move nearly silently when he chose to exercise the ability, and a tiny smile curved his lips as he recalled sneaking around the dungeons many years before, attempting to avoid detection by the very man he was now on his way to see. When had thoughts of Severus ever not been on his mind?

As he approached Severus' office Remus became aware of voices, low pitched and quiet. Not quite whispers, but muted as though the speakers were as aware as he of the way the stone walls conducted sound. Remus wondered for a moment if a few of the Slytherins had been brave enough - or foolhardy enough - to defy Severus' orders and leave the dormitory. That was until he drew near enough to detect that one of the voices was deep, resonant, and commanding; was, in fact, Severus' own.

Perhaps Severus had caught a student wandering the halls, and Remus stopped, listening intently. He had no desire to interrupt a chastisement, not given how resentful many of the Slytherins were going to be if it got out that Remus was responsible for Draco being removed. Hopefully Severus would send the miscreant on their way with a detention soon, and then Remus would make his presence known.

Then the words which were being spoken permeated his consciousness, and Remus stiffened as he heard the sound of his own name.

"Lupin will not be a problem, you are worrying needlessly," Severus' velvet tones were drawling. "It will all be over soon."

"But Severus..."

"Listen to me. You will go back down and take care of the students. Things are still far too volatile for them to be left alone for too long. But after tonight, everything will finally be over."

Obviously Severus was speaking to Draco. But... what was all this about? The fact that Severus was going to explain things to Remus? But... but Draco had just tried to kill him! Draco was the culprit, and Severus didn't know!

"Severus, I... thank you. I don't know what else to say, except thank you."

There was a dismissive snort. "You are a foolish boy and I am sure that you are going to come to grief over this eventually, but I shall do what I can to keep your secret safe in the meantime. Your actions have been sheer reckless folly, you realize, but I suppose it is foolish of me to expect logic from someone your age, especially where your hormones are involved." There was a pause, and then Severus spoke again, the words making Remus' blood run cold. "I cannot cover for you forever, Draco, but I admit that I owe you a debt, and therefore will repay it as you have requested. Slytherins take care of their own. You go take care of the students... and I will take care of Remus Lupin."

\---

It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

Stunned, disbelieving, and confused, Remus froze in place after hearing the damning words leave Severus' lips. Severus... was in league with Draco? Severus knew that Draco had tried to kill him?

Remus didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Severus had been acting different, getting close to him, bantering with him to the point of flirtation... hadn't he? Had Remus misread everything?

He distantly heard the sound of Draco's footsteps receding, then the sound of Severus' office door closing. Remus didn't know what to do, didn't know what to believe. Part of him wanted to run away, to flee the situation and deny that he could have been so foolish as to have believed that Severus ever could have had feelings for him. Severus hated him, after all, always had. Severus must hate him still, to be covering up for Draco and be willing to risk his own career and freedom to help Draco obtain some sort of revenge on Remus for Lucius' death. How long had this been in the works? Was this all behind Severus' agreement to make the Wolfsbane, and the fact that Severus hadn't objected to Remus returning to the school?

No, Remus didn't want to believe it. Not when things between he and Severus had appeared to be going so well. Not when it had looked as though finally, at long last, he was getting close to Severus, close enough to tell Severus how he felt.

Dazed at what had happened, Remus turned blindly and left the dungeon. He could have stayed, could have gone to confront Severus with everything, but... he couldn't do it, not now, not yet. Not while he felt as though his heart had just been ripped out and trampled upon. He needed to think, to try to figure out what was going on, what was happening. There had to be another explanation that he wasn't seeing. It couldn't be true that Severus was going to actually help Draco to kill him.

He needed desperately to talk to Albus.

Remus made his way to the Headmaster's office, taking his time, using the secret passageways through the school that he remembered from his school days. He felt somewhat paranoid, not wanting to run into anyone until he had a chance to speak with Dumbledore, to lay everything out before him and ask for the Headmaster's reassurance that he wasn't completely losing his mind.

Finally he stood before the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office, and spoke the password. When the guardian leapt aside, Remus rushed up to the office, hoping again hope that Dumbledore was there. But the Headmaster's desk was empty, and a sleepy looking Fawkes - moulting and bedraggled - blinked at Remus, offering an apologetic trill; although if it were for the Phoenix's appearance or Dumbledore's absence, Remus wasn't quite certain.

It was obvious that Dumbledore wasn't back from the Ministry, and Remus turned in frustration. Just what was he going to do now? He could wait here, hoping that Dumbledore would return soon, before it was time to go back to his office for his transformation. Barring that, he did know what....

Remus paused in mid-thought, eyes widening in shock and dismay. Transformation. Full moon. He couldn't go to see Severus, because Severus might be acting in league with Draco... but Severus was also the one who had the final dose of Remus' Wolfsbane potion.

Bloody hell. This just keeps getting better and better.

Running a hand through his hair, Remus tried to school his thoughts, wondering what to do. He could brazen it out, and try to get the Wolfsbane from Severus without them actually talking about anything. Or Remus could even attempt to steal the potion, avoiding Severus altogether. Or... Remus stopped, frowning suddenly as Severus' words replayed in his mind. But after tonight, everything will finally be over.

The Wolfsbane... what if Severus, or Draco, had done something to the potion? Was that the plan? To poison him with his own potion, perhaps even claim that the "student attacker" had been the one to do it? What would a little hellebore do in the potion? Or even just a little too much Wolfsbane? The potion itself was almost a poison to the werewolf in the first place, which was how it worked to subdue the lupine mind. Adding extra of the herb could easily cause Remus' death, and it could be explained away as an accident, shrugged off that Severus had been distracted by the turmoil in his house and had added just a little bit too much. No one would believe Severus was guilty of killing him; after all, hadn't he and Severus actually become friends in the last month or so?

If it weren't all so horribly serious, Remus would have admired the plan. Utterly brilliant, it was. Well, considering it was Severus, he would have expected no less.

Unfortunately, admiration for Severus' intellect didn't help Remus one bit. He was stuck here, on the night of the full moon, with no chance to take his final dose of Wolfsbane, and, without it, no way to keep his mind during the transformation. Which meant that if anything happened, Remus would have no way of knowing it, and no chance of reacting.

He needed to tell someone, to let them know, just in case anything unfortunate occurred. His time, however, was quickly running out, and it would take too long to explain or even to write a note trying to detail everything. But he had to do something...

Neville, he thought, with a grim, satisfied smile. Neville would believe him, and Neville knew a great deal of it already. If Remus could get to Neville, give him the hairs and update him on the rest of the story, then Neville could approach Dumbledore upon his return and explain everything that was happening. Yes, Neville could help him, and Remus was certain that Neville would do it.

Nodding a distracted farewell to Fawkes, Remus descended the stairs once more. He wondered if Severus were now looking for him, since he was long overdue for their arranged meeting. Would Severus guess that Remus had become suspicious of everything that had happened? Or would he merely think that Remus had merely forgotten their appointment? In either case, Remus thought it a good chance that Severus would come looking for him; and Remus had absolutely no desire to be found.

Thank Merlin I know how to get around the castle without being seen, Remus thought grimly. Never before would he have thought that the adventures of his childhood might one day save his life. Or hopefully save it. The night isn't over yet... and until it is, I can't be certain that I will live to see the morning.

Remus managed to reach the greenhouses without incident, certain that Neville would be there tending to the final watering for the evening. Peering through the door, he was vastly relieved to see Neville within. He could update the younger wizard, then slip back out and to his own office to get through his transformation. He needed to be there in time to put away some of the valuables as well... no doubt the wolf this month would not have the appreciation for the delicacy of some of Remus' books and instruments.

His hand was on the knob, and he turned it, beginning to push the door open silently. Then he stopped, hissing in dismay as the door on the opposite end opened as well, but not quietly at all. It slammed back against the glass wall - fortunately spelled to prevent breakage - with enough strength to rattle the entire room, to reveal the form of Severus, who strode into the room without further ado and stalked over to Neville, face drawn down into a fierce scowl.

"Where is Lupin?" the Potions Master snapped harshly, staring down at Neville with eyes that seemed to snap with anger. "He was supposed to meet me. He is not in his office, nor in his quarters, nor anywhere that I can find him. He was last seen leaving with you, Longbottom, supposedly headed for London. You will tell me where he is and you will tell me at once."

Remus' eyes widened, and he wondered if poor Neville would shrink before the onslaught. Severus seemed quite wound up, and Remus thought that Severus must not be taking the sudden change in plans very well. Certainly if they had been only going to have a completely innocent meeting, Severus wouldn't be this upset -- it was just one more horrid, undeniable sign that Severus really was on Draco's side, and that his friendless to Remus had been nothing but a lie.

There was heavy despair in Remus' chest, and he swallowed past a painfully closed throat at this further crushing of his hopes and dreams. He should have known that Severus would never truly like him, would never have softened years of hatred for no reason at all. Remus had been a fool for ever thinking it was possible.

Remus didn't have much time for self-pity, however, because he suddenly heard a firm, almost strident voice answering Severus back. Glancing inside once more, Remus went still with surprise, as he saw Neville - shy, quiet, self-deprecating Neville - hands clenched, eyes full of defiance, standing up to Severus Snape.

"I won't tell you a damned thing, Snape," Neville snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, Professor, you are on my turf at the moment, and I don't have to answer to you. Where Remus is and who he has been with are none of your damned concern, but I can assure you that you will find out all about it soon enough. Then we will see who has the last laugh, Snape. And I promise that it isn't going to be you!"

Severus looked absolutely taken aback at this display of vehemence, obviously not expecting Neville to not just stand up to him, but to actually fight back. However Severus was obviously long used to dealing with strange situations, for he seemed to gather his wits very quickly, firing back at Neville with both verbal barrels. "Do not speak that way to me, Longbottom. Lupin is indeed my concern, since he is under my charge for taking the Wolfsbane potion. He has not had his final dose for this cycle, which means that I am directly responsible for insuring that he damned well does take it." Severus eyes narrowed, and Remus saw his mouth turn up in a sneer. "You can drop the pretense, Longbottom. I know what you are up to. You know that you are losing and it eats at you, does it not? I know what you want, and I can assure you that you are not going to get it. The fact that you are losing it to me just makes the victory far sweeter."

Remus blinked in surprise. What in the hell was Severus going on about? What was Neville losing? This didn't make any sense whatsoever!

But Neville was speaking again. "You think so? You think that Remus has feelings for you, Snape? Well, think again." A rather smug smile curved Neville's lips, looking jarring and quite out of place.

"Lupin's feeling are none of your concern, I assure you, Longbottom," Severus snarled, and Remus saw the long, pale fingers of Severus' hands clench. "Since he obviously has no feelings for you, beyond some misguided sense of friendship. What he feels for me..." Severus paused, smirking nastily. "Well, I think actions speak louder than words. Don't you? Or, do you remember what happened? Think back, Longbottom. Do you remember what he did?"

"SHUT UP!" Neville shrieked, hands coming up to his head. "Shut up and get the hell out of here!"

"No," Severus responded, drawing closer to Neville. "You will tell me where he is at once." His voice was implacable.

"NO!" Neville replied, but his voice less certain than it had been.

Neville was panting harshly, Remus could hear it even at this distance. But Remus had no idea what to do, or even what was going on. There was something he was missing, and he steeled himself to enter the room and break up the argument. Whatever was going on with his life, whatever Severus intended to do, Remus didn't want Neville to suffer for it.

"Tell me!" Severus demanded.

"I won't, and you're too late!" Neville cried suddenly, pulling something from his pocket and holding it up victoriously. Remus couldn't see what it was, but he didn't care. He had to stop this now, before Severus lost it and hexed Neville.

Taking a breath, Remus opened his mouth, preparing to call out to the two men and order them to stop... but before he could utter a single word, he felt a lurching pull behind his navel, and with a gasp of dismay be suddenly reappeared in his office, where the automatic portkey had whisked him. His locked, warded, and completely cut off office, where no one could get in or out.

"Bloody hell!" Remus snarled in frustration, turning and slamming a fist painfully into the wall, barely feeling the impact. He had fifteen minutes until moonrise, and that wasn't going to be enough time to even bring down his wards, much less make it back to the greenhouses. He was out of options, and out of time. And in only minutes he wouldn't be aware of anything that happened until he was human again.

There was a sound behind him, and then a voice spoke. "It's all right, Remus. Everything is going to be fine."

"NEVILLE???"

Remus spun, eyes going wide with horror at the sight of Neville standing in front of him, holding a small pair of sheers, the kind he used for harvesting delicate leaves for potions ingredients. Neville was smiling, looking very pleased with himself. "Surprise!"

"What in the hell are you doing here?" Remus asked, stunned. He shook his head and tried to bite down on a rising sense of panic. "No, that's not important right now. Neville, you have to get out of here! It's almost moonrise... I didn't have the last dose of potion... I have to bring down the wards!"

Remus didn't know how or why Neville had apparently portkeyed into his office, but Remus had to get the younger wizard out, and as quickly as possible. If he began bringing the wards down at once, there might just be enough time.

He prayed there would be enough time.

Drawing his wand, Remus turned back to the door, beginning the conjuration which would break the magical seals he had so carefully constructed on the door. Speed was all that mattered at this point.

"Immobulus!"

The hex caught Remus completely by surprise, stunning him into complete motionlessness as the magic froze him in place. He could still blink, he was still perfectly aware, but he couldn't move at all.

"I don't want you to bring down the wards, Remus," Neville said quietly. Remus felt a hand on his arm, felt himself carefully turned until his open, staring eyes gazed into Neville's face. The younger wizard wore a calm, somewhat victorious smile, and Neville lifted his hand to caress it lightly over Remus' cheek.

"This actually worked out better than I would have thought," Neville continued, nodding slightly. "Snape will be furious when he finds out that he did me a huge favor, talking to Draco like that out in the hall. You didn't know that I was there too, did you? See, I knew you would go see Snape, to tell him about Draco just as soon as you could. Really, Remus, your sense of honor is going to be the death of you some day."

Remus was stunned, listening to Neville speaking. Neville had apparently gone to the dungeons as well, for what purpose Remus couldn't begin to imagine. He didn't want to imagine what was going on in Neville's mind, he merely wanted Neville out of here as quickly as possible. Remus had no desire to become a murderer... not again. Not ever again.

"I can tell that you're confused," Neville said, sighing and shaking his head. He plucked Remus's wand out of his hand, tucking it away in a pocket of his robes. "It doesn't matter, it will all become clear soon enough. The important thing is that since you didn't have the final dose of Wolfsbane, thanks to Snape's scaring you off, I won't have to convince you to try to bite me... you'll do it quite on your own. I knew you might be reticent about infecting me with lycanthropy, but really, it's the only way, you know. The only way we can be together, permanently and totally. Werewolves can mate for life, but only with other werewolves, I know." Neville paused, giving Remus a beatific smile. "I love you, Remus. I've loved you since I was thirteen, and I saw you for the first time. You were so good to me then, so kind, so encouraging. The first person who didn't judge me, who didn't believe I was less a wizard than anyone else. You taught me, Remus, and I've always longed for you, longed to be just like you. And now I will be, as soon as the moon rises. We'll be mates, Remus. I'll belong to you forever. I know you love me, too, and now you can show it, without any fear. Won't that be wonderful?"

Remus shock turned to absolute horror. Neville had planned this? Neville wanted this? It made no sense! This was... wrong. All wrong. It was insane! Neville was his friend, Neville was little more than a child! The moon would rise, Remus would transform, and then Moony, all unknowing, would kill Neville. Not bite him, but kill him. Because even though Neville had the basic premise of werewolf mating correct, Neville had messed up on one very important fact: Remus didn't love him, and therefore Moony would never take Neville as a mate.

It was going to be a fatal mistake.

Frantically Remus tried to think of something - anything - that he could do to get out of this. Neville had his wand, and Remus was paralyzed, unable to act. If he weren't immobilized he could overpower Neville physically, but then... what? What could he do? No matter what happened, Neville was trapped in here with him, and Moony was going to think of nothing except hunting and killing.

Remus would have to get free, and kill himself. It was the only thing that he could do.

"I know you can't speak, Remus, but that's all right," Neville was saying, stepping closer to Remus, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his cheek against Remus' shoulder. "Just think, neither of us will ever have to be alone again. We'll have each other, not just sometimes, but even during the moon. I will be there for you, the way that you have always been there for me. Forever..."

He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't even flinch back from Neville's touch. Remus tried, desperately tried, to will himself to move, to somehow, some way break the magic that was holding him. His wand was right there, in Neville's pocket. If he could get to it, he could Avada Kedavra himself, putting an end to this insanity. He had nothing to live for, anyway, and death was far, far preferable to the alternative of becoming human again the next morning in the middle of a blood-splattered, gore-filled room amidst the broken pieces of what once had been Neville Longbottom.

Please, oh God, Please, Remus prayed, desperately hoping for a miracle. Albus, Minerva, Severus... Severus, please, come and kill me. At least it will put an end to this nightmare.

There was a noise, a loud cracking from the wall behind his desk, and Remus felt a surge of hope. Something was happening, someone was coming. Remus just hoped that they would be in time to stop him from killing Neville.

"No!" Neville shrieked, releasing Remus and turning in the direction of the sound. Remus didn't have a clear view of the area, but at the edge of his vision he thought that he saw cracks appearing in the ancient grey stone of the wall. Someone must be trying to break through it to reach them, and Remus silently urged them on to greater effort. It had to be Severus, he was certain of it. And Severus wouldn't hesitate to kill Moony before he attacked.

Another thunderous crash resounded against the wall. "Reparo!" Neville screamed, pointing his wand at the wall. "Reparo! Reparo! Reparo!"

Some of the minor cracks filled in, but Neville couldn't conjure fast enough. Another crash, and the sound of crumbling stone and mortar came to Remus' ears, thudding heavily to the floor. He could smell dust in the air.

At that moment he felt the magic binding him suddenly ease, and he whirled, looking in the direction of the wall that was coming down. Neville stood before it, throwing repair spells just as fast as he could, but it was like trying to hold back the tide.

Another crash, and Neville danced backwards to avoid being struck, as a large stone from near the ceiling fell. It crashed onto Remus' desk, splintering it down the floor. Remus started forward, intent seizing Neville and holding him until the rescuers arrived. It was a good plan, and it would no doubt have worked, if at that moment the moon had not risen.

DAMNATION! Remus thought, as he stumbled on legs that suddenly collapsed beneath him, sending him crashing heavily to the floor. Cloth ripped as his body began to reform, and Remus felt a rising sense of panic. If they weren't in time, it would all be for nothing. Hurry, hurry, hurry, he chanted, an internal mantra punctuated by the increasingly frequent crashes of stone on stone. He was vaguely aware of Neville continuing to scream out spells in an attempt to delay the rescue, and Remus raised his head, looking in that direction, trying to see what was happening even as his body twisted in agony. Time seemed to slow down as he watched each individual event. Neville shouting a spell, followed by the resounding crash of whatever was being used to batter the wall outside. Loose mortar falling down like heavy chunks of ice dust rising in torrents into the air, thick and choking. Stones falling down, crashing to the floor and causing it to vibrate hard enough that Remus could feel it all along his body like little shocks. And then finally, finally, a hole appearing, through which a head and arm appeared almost at once. It was Severus, pale and grim and looking utterly implacable, as he turned to face Neville.

Neville raised his wand, and Severus raised his, just a fraction faster as the spells were fired. A crackle of magic, and Neville falling backwards, stunned. At that moment Remus' back twisted as his tail began to form, and he screamed at the pain of it trying to burst forth from the base of his spine. He heard the sound from his own mouth, a mouth which elongated, changing the sound to his own ears. Higher and higher the scream rose, as he writhed in agony, all teeth and claws and snout and ears and tail.

By the time the sound became a howl, Remus Lupin was no more.

~*~*~*~*~

Pain. It hurt, more than Remus could remember it hurting in years, little daggers of agony stabbing him in every muscle, every joint, in his ears and eyes and nose. Even his bloody teeth hurt, aching in his head, seeming to vibrate with each painful breath he drew into lungs which burned as though he had been breathing acid. It felt like the bad old days, multiplied by a thousand and then multiplied again. Still, Remus was rather surprised to be feeling anything at all.

Feeling meant he was alive. It was a situation he had not expected to find himself in again.

He stirred, trying to open his eyes and wincing as they seemed ready to pop out of his head from the effort. He made a noise of pain, and immediately there was a warm hand on his forehead, a thumb caressing lightly over one brow.

"Do not try to open your eyes," a voice came to his ears. Shockingly, it was Severus' voice, the normally silken tones sounding tired and brittle.

Of course given all that happened Remus didn't obey, ignoring the agony and opening his eyes to stare up into Severus' pale face, which hovered not too far from his own. The expression on Severus' face was simultaneously annoyed and concerned, and he scowled slightly when he saw Remus' eyes focused on him. That was when Remus became aware of being cradled in Severus' lap, actually curled against Severus' chest.

"Severus?" he asked, hearing his own voice rasping as though he had been gargling ground glass. "What...?"

"Idiot werewolf," Severus muttered, although there was no real heat in his voice. "You realize that you have a great deal of explaining to do. You had best save your strength, because I am not going to go easy on you."

Remus eyes widened, but he didn't realize that his mouth had fallen open in surprise until he felt a cool edge of glass pressed against his lower lip.

"Drink," Severus ordered. "It will help the pain, and put you to sleep so that I can get you up to the infirmary."

There was some reason, Remus thought distantly, that he oughtn't trust Severus. Somehow, thought, it didn't seem terribly important at the moment. Surely if Severus had wished him harm, he would have killed him as a wolf, and there would have been no question as to guilt or justification. The fact that Remus was still alive went a long way toward proving that he did, indeed, still have a reason to live.

The potion was cool and sweet on his tongue, and Remus swallowed it obediently, staring up into Severus' dark eyes. He couldn't speak, and Severus didn't, although the unexpected tenderness on Severus' face and in his touch spoke volumes. There would be time for explanations later, when he had rested and healed and had a chance to simply be thankful that he was still alive. He could already feel the potion stealing through his body, relaxing his limbs, numbing the daggers down to merely pointy sticks, and then to little more than dull throbs.

Remus' eyes slipped closed again, as he drifted into an easy sleep, feeling a soft hand caressing his cheek, and wondering if the sensation of warm lips pressing gently against his was real or only a pleasant dream.


	11. Moonset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the epilogue. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading!

Remus' second awakening was both more and less pleasant that the first. More pleasant because it was not accompanied by mind-numbing agony that made him feel as though his head were going to fly off his shoulders and go bouncing around the room in an attempt to escape the searing pain. Less pleasant, since he woke in the infirmary, obviously lying on one of the narrow, hard beds in Poppy's domain, and not cradled safely in Severus' arms.

"So glad that you are awake, dear boy," a voice spoke from beside his bed. "How are you feeling?"

Opening his eyes, he blinked at the late afternoon light streaming in through the high windows, then turned his head to find Albus sitting next to him, looking at him with concerned blue eyes over the rims of his half-moon glasses.

"Not too bad," Remus replied, glad to find that his voice had returned. He knew the symptoms from his earlier awakening - apparently Moony had howled his throat raw - but it was much better now. "Is everything... Severus... Neville?" Remus frowned, then swallowed. He had so many questions that he wasn't quite certain where to begin, and there an edge of fear in his mind that he didn't wish to contemplate.

"Both of them are fine," Albus said soothingly, obviously following the direction of Remus' thoughts. "Severus is in his quarters, probably sleeping as well, given the events of the night. Mr. Longbottom... well, he has been taken to St. Mungo's. NOT for a bite, but for... well, to be honest, a mental disorder."

Remus' heart, which had started to pound in terror when the Headmaster mentioned St. Mungo's, gradually slowed, and he drew a shuddering breath of relief. "He's going to be all right?" Remus asked, concerned. Neville obviously hadn't been in full possession of his faculties the previous night, not if he had believed Remus was in love with him and that being bitten by Moony was going to bind them forever. He didn't blame Neville for what had happened, he blamed himself for not having realized what was happening.

"He will be fine, with time, and care," Dumbledore replied, placing one hand atop of Remus' where they rested on his chest. "You mustn't blame yourself, Remus. Even the healers at St. Mungo's thought that he was over everything that had happened in the war, that they had removed all the complicated, intertwining curses that Bellatrix had thrown on him. Apparently they either missed something, or underestimated the effect of everything that had happened to him. I don't believe he was going to hurt you, Remus..."

"No, no, I don't believe that, either," Remus said, sighing and shaking his head slightly. "I feel very bad for him. No one should have to go through all that. He was just... confused. Very confused."

"Yes, he was," Albus agreed. "Added to that, there were the effects of having taken your memory from the pensieve, and..."

"WHAT?" Remus gasped, sitting up in the bed and wincing slightly at the residual pain of the sudden movement. "You mean that Neville took my memories from the pensieve? But why? I don't understand..."

"I take it that the reasons were complicated, and I think it is best if Severus explains that particular bit to you." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for the first time since Remus had awoken. "Everything is rather, well, interwoven with what had happened, and I've still not gotten all of the details myself, actually. But Severus assured me that he would tell you everything, and I believe that he will."

"Right," Remus said slowly. His mind was in a whirl from finding out that Neville had been the one to take his memory. It really made no sense. And why, once taken, had he apparently kept it? When it was slowly driving him mad? And no wonder. Having his own memories of the Final Battle, with all the complications of Bellatrix and what she had done must have been hard enough for Neville to deal with in the first place. The images of Remus' memories, of Remus killing, couldn't have been easy to reconcile, not when Neville's mind would start trying to integrate them. Neville must not have known of the effects of holding someone else's memories, or else he surely would have sought help to get rid of it.

Obviously, Remus needed to go talk to Severus, and the sooner he did, the better. There were questions that needed to be answered, and not all of them had to do with Neville or the Slytherins, the poisoning, or even Draco. Remus wanted to know, once and for all, if there was something between he and Severus. Something that he could hold on to. Something that, perhaps, they both could build upon.

Remus pushed back the covers, turning and rising from the bed while Albus looked on with amusement. Stepping behind a screen, Remus removed the infirmary gown and donned his own robes - clean ones, he noticed, which someone must have brought up from his quarters - before coming back around and looking at Albus, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know, don't you, Albus. How I feel about him." Remus didn't bother to explaining who he meant, and he didn't phrase it as a question.

"I've known for years," Dumbledore replied, his smile very gentle. "I've done what I can, here and there, to try to help the cause, so to speak. But Severus has always been one to do things in his own time, and at his own pace. He's not the easiest of men, you know, and he's very suspicious. I believe, however, that even he has a hard time denying something that occurs right before his eyes. A couple of somethings, if I am not mistaken."

Remus blinked at that, completely confused. "Albus, what in the world are you talking about? What 'somethings'?"

Shaking his head, Dumbledore only chuckled. "I'll let Severus explain," he said, eyes twinkling again. "As well as liking to do things in his own time, he hates having anyone step on his lines... and believe me, I've been on the receiving end of his temper enough to not relish doing it again. Go on, now. I have a feeling he's probably waiting for you in his quarters. And Remus?"

"Yes, Albus?" Already on his way to the door, Remus paused, looking back over his shoulder at the elderly wizard.

"I never told you this, after the Final Battle, but... well done, dear boy. Well done indeed."

Remus nodded briefly, not knowing what Albus could possibly mean. Then with a small smile for the Headmaster, he turned toward the door once more. It was time, at long last, to find out exactly where he and Severus stood.

He just hoped that, in the end, it would be together.

~*~*~*~*~

The first thing Remus thought upon entering the dungeons was that Severus must have lifted the restrictions on the Slytherins, since the hallways were no longer deserted. Somehow the sight of the students - even those who looked at him warily - reassured Remus that things were, at last, returning to normal. 

Smiling slightly at each of the youngsters he saw, Remus made his way to Severus' quarters. He paused for a moment outside the door, drawing a deep breath to clam his suddenly pounding heart, then lifted his hand to knock.

Within only a few moments the door opened, and Severus stood regarding Remus calmly. For once the Potions Master was without his enveloping robes and jacket, dressed far more casually than Remus had ever seen him before, in a simple buttoned shirt and black trousers. He looked good, almost relaxed, and Remus' breath caught, almost causing him to miss Severus' words. "Lupin. Come in."

Remus moved past as Severus stepped back, entering an attractive, understated sitting room, decorated in dark greens and greys and heavy, deep-toned woods. He noticed a collection of mortars and pestles on one set of shelves, surrounded by others holding what must have been literally thousands of books. Severus' massive fireplace was topped by a carved mantel of mahogany, which, as befit his position as Head of Slytherin, was ornately decorated with carvings of intertwined snakes.

"Sit down," Severus said quietly from behind him, and Remus turned his head, giving Severus a slightly pensive smile before crossing to the heavy leather Queen Anne chairs before the hearth.

Sinking down into the seat, Remus watched as Severus joined him, settling down in the matching chair facing his. They gazed at each other for several moments, Severus with a neutral expression, Remus with a somewhat uncertain one, until Remus finally drew a breath and broke the silence. "Thank you, Severus. For coming last night and keeping me... keeping Moony... from... well. Attacking Neville. I don't know what I would have done, what I would be doing now, if you hadn't."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "You are welcome," he stated, before a slight frown marred his brow. "However, I feel compelled to point out that the dramatics would have been unnecessary, had you merely come to me as we had agreed."

"I know that now," Remus said, running a hand through his hear in a gesture of distraction. He knew he had some items to answer for; but then, so did Severus. "But... there was so much going on, and I was confused, worried... and..." Heartbroken. But I can't say that, not yet, at least. Instead of finishing the thought, Remus shrugged. "Why don't we start at the beginning, Severus? You said you had information for me, what you would have told me if I... well, if I had kept our meeting. What information was that?"

Severus gave Remus a very intent look, as though trying to see what unspoken thoughts Remus was keeping. But after a moment he nodded. "Very well. What I wanted to tell you was about the hellebore, your poisoning, and the threat from Slytherin. You see, it turns out that you were not actually the main target at all."

"I wasn't?" Remus asked, surprised at the revelation. "But all that build up about wanting revenge on me? Was that not true?"

"Yes and no," Severus replied. "Things have been, as you are well aware, quite tense in my House, among the students whose parents were Death Eaters or otherwise vocal supporters of Voldemort, and those who were either not supporters, or who supported him clandestinely and are attempting to now backpedal in the name of keeping the Ministry away from their assets. True believers are ever true believers, and you know that some of the higher ranking Death Eaters either escaped or were sent to Azkaban. It turns out that Everath Turnbull, one of my third years who has been involved in almost every physical altercation, is hot-headed in more than one way. His father escaped going to Azkaban by running to the Continent, and Turnbull had borne a great deal of torment for that from both sides. He found support neither from the people whose parents were killed or imprisoned, nor from those who have disassociated themselves from Voldemort entirely. As you know, Slytherin is a House where alliances can be crucial and loners do not tend to fare very well. He was forced into a position of being alone, and he decided that he would have his revenge on both sides." Severus paused, shaking his head. "It was a rather ingenious plan, actually. Very Slytherin."

Remus snorted, shaking his head. "Care to enlighten me, then?"

Severus raised a brow. 'I was getting to that. So, Turnbull went about sowing rumors and stirring up dissension on both sides, just to keep things in a state of instability. Turnbull appears to have picked you as the target of the death threat because he knew you had been decorated by the Ministry for your efforts in the War, and he knew, from his father, that you had killed more than one Death Eater. That rumor alone put a great deal of uncomfortable pressure on one faction almost at once, causing unrest. Then when he had the opportunity to steal the hellebore from the Potions classroom, he took it, hatching the rest of his scheme as he went. To cover up the theft he used some of the leaves to poison your tea - which, he knew from forays to the kitchen, that the House Elves supplied you with. He does not seem to have thought that you would be actually endangered by it. Knowing of your lycanthropy, he apparently decided that you would detect it before actually ingesting it. The point was not to kill you, after all - although from what I have gleaned he was not going to shed tears if you had died - but to cover up his real purpose; hiding the majority of the hellebore so that he could, at the right time, poison the entire population of Slytherin for revenge. Albus took Turnbull with him when he went to the Ministry yesterday, and the boy has been remanded to their custody."

Remus knew that his jaw fell open slackly at this pronouncement, but he couldn't help it. His mind boggled at the thought of a young boy, little more than a child, who had hatched such a diabolical scheme, actually intending to murder his classmates. Shuddering, he looked at Severus in horror. "Obviously you suspected something more was going on with all that, didn't you? Which is why you were trying to hold things in a state of truce? Until you could find the evidence?"

"Yes, I suspected something, but there were also things that did not fit, did not add properly in to what was going on and which caused me to waste time looking in the wrong direction. The stealing of your memory, for instance. That made no sense at all when looked at next to the poisoning, not from a Slytherin perspective at least."

"I can see that," Remus replied slowly. "Albus told me that Neville took it. I would never have believed it at the time, but, given everything..." He stopped, shrugging painfully. "I don't understand it. What possible use could my memories have for Neville? Did you talk to him, Severus, before they took him to St. Mungo's? Did he say anything?"

"I did speak with him," Severus said, eyes narrowing as he scowled. "You, Lupin, have been singularly shortsighted with regards to Longbottom. You should never let affection blinder you in such a fashion. It could have come to grief for you and for Longbottom, not that I personally care what happens to him. But still, you constantly let your emotions rule your head, Lupin! You always have, and when I think how close I came to..." 

Severus had been on a roll, working up a good head of steam as he castigated Remus for his failings, and Remus bore it because - as it turned out - it was nothing less than the truth. Remus was surprised, however, when Severus halted in mid-sentence, and his heart sped up slightly at what Severus had been saying.

"How close you came to what, Severus? Getting rid of me for once and for all?" Remus asked, somewhat stung. "You know, I might have been a bit less blindered to what was going on with Neville, were I not getting such mixed signals from you! You act as though you like me when we are together, so much that I thought that..." Remus made a sound of annoyance, and waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. And then there are all these secrets, all this going on, and then Draco. What was I supposed to think about that? You telling him you would cover for him, and take care of me? Especially when he has every reason to want me dead!"

Severus' scowl deepened when Remus revealed that he had overheard that particular conversation. "You are jumping to the wrong conclusion as usual, Lupin! I told you before that it isn't Draco. He doesn't want you harmed. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Is that so, Severus?" Remus asked, growing annoyed himself. "You know, I'm not the only one who lets affection blinder me to what's going on right under my nose. You think that the way Draco has been acting is purely platonic affection for you? The way that he scowls at me every time I am anywhere near you? The way he confronted me in the dungeons a week ago? If he doesn't wish me harm, you certainly could have fooled me! You know, there is so much going on here that I don't understand, and no one will bloody tell me anything! Every time I think I have the answer, something else happens, and you Slytherins keep your secrets and only let me see what you want me to see!"

Remus was fully expecting Severus to blow up at this, and therefore he was surprised when Severus merely raised an eyebrow, a smirk suddenly curving his mouth. "Which is what we intended." 

Springing up from his chair, Remus glared at Severus, anger rising within him. It was still too close to the moon, and he could feel the uncharacteristic rage of the wolf - unchecked by that final dose of Wolfsbane - coming to the fore. He struggled with it, pushing it down as much as he could as he watched Severus rise fluidly to his own feet, looking at him levelly. "Oh, it was," Remus said, jaw clenching. "I'm sorry, but I am in no mood for any more games. In the last few weeks I have been attacked, poisoned, and had someone I was genuinely fond of try to use me to turn them under the misguided and almost deadly assumption that I was in love with them! I really want some answers, Severus. If you won't give them to me, I'll go back to Albus to get them. But I won't be toyed with."

Severus' face drew down into a frown. "You would have had some of the answers if you had faced up to your own memories," he ground out. "But I will happily enlighten you. Draco decidedly was not happy that you killed his father, but that was only subsidiary to something far more important to him. Potter. Draco is jealous of your relationship with Potter, and the fact that Potter is unwilling to publicly acknowledge their relationship until you are informed of it, and had - hopefully - given your blessing." The edge of scorn in Severus' voice was obvious.

"What?" Remus gasped, anger fading into confusion at this unexpected revelation. "Draco... and Harry? When... how?"

"It started a number of years ago, I believe. Intensity of emotion, hate covering something deeper that neither of them were prepared to accept or deal with." Severus gave Remus a speaking look, and Remus felt a small shiver travel up his spine at the burning intensity of that dark gaze. "After Draco's defection to the Order it grew, but they still did not know what to do about it. It was not until after the war that they had time to actually pursue the possibilities. It is not a certain thing yet, they are still getting used to each other, but... Well, all I can say is that Potter had better not hurt Draco, or else he will have to reckon with me."

Eyes wide, Remus stared at Severus, trying to come to grips with this revelation. "Harry... and Draco..." he repeated, trying to wrap his mind around it. He had spent so long thinking that Draco was interested in Severus that it was hard to make the abrupt shift in perception. When he actually was able to wrap his mind around it, Remus realized that it was not at all surprising. Especially after his last conversation with Harry in Hogsmeade. "That must be what Harry was trying to tell me a few weeks ago, when the rock-throwing incident happened. But..." Remus paused, then looked at Severus. "You knew about all this? They told you?"

"They told me nothing," Severus said with a derisive snort. "Draco was basically forced to confess all to me after he was late for his duties once too often and I threatened to terminate his position. While I admit to a certain fondness for him and I do believe that, as the official reason that Draco defected during the war, that we all owe him a certain debt, I will not tolerate anyone shirking their duties."

"Of course." Remus went quiet for several moments, trying to assimilate this new information into his mental framework. "Then," he said finally, giving Severus a curious look, "all that you said to Draco yesterday about you 'taking care' of me was..."

"Was my agreement to 'let the cat out of the bag', as it were, since Potter apparently cannot get even that small task correct," Severus said, giving a pained sigh that made the corners of Remus' mouth twitch in amusement. "I have kept their relationship to myself at Draco's request, but apparently Potter is most afraid of your disapproval for some reason that I cannot fathom and Draco was becoming very impatient. You should also know that Turnbull threw the rock at you in Hogsmeade - more covering action, apparently - and Draco saw it because he was following you and Potter, waiting for Potter to inform you so that Draco could see your reaction to the news first hand. Draco was furious about the interruption, and chased Turnbull down. It was Turnbull's extreme nervousness when confronted that raised Draco's suspicions that there was something more going on, all of which eventually led to our discovery of the rest of the hellebore where Turnbull had hidden it."

"I see," Remus replied, turning his gaze to the fire, staring into it blindly. "So, that's almost everything, I suppose. I'm no longer in danger, your House is safe, the villain is caught, and we can get back to normal. Whatever normal is." 

"My House is not entirely safe, not yet," Severus said, frowning. "It will take time and healing, but without someone specifically attempting to play both sides off against each other, it should get better, yes." Severus paused, then gave a deep, surprising sigh that caused Remus to look at him, startled. "Normal..." Severus murmured, almost to himself. "I cannot remember a time when things were ever 'normal' in my life. Maybe they never have been."

Remus hesitated. "Severus... I still have a question, one that only you can answer. It occurred to me yesterday, when I was... well, when I was trying to figure out if you really did hate me so much that you really would be willing to help Draco kill me -"

Severus' head came up sharply at that, and his dark eyes blazed. "You thought that I would do something like that?" he snapped, jaw clenching in anger. "After... " Visibly controlling himself, Severus glared at Remus.

"You have to understand, Severus, that I didn't know what to think," Remus replied, letting all his pain and regret show on his face. "I didn't want to believe it, but... there was all this about you taking care of me and Slytherins take care of their own and everything, combined with the full moon and me feeling pretty damned paranoid..." Remus voice trailed off, and he reached out slowly, hesitantly, to lay a hand on Severus' arm, which stiffened beneath his touch. "I'm sorry, Severus. I'm sorry I doubted you. But you see, that leads right into the question that I have never fully understood. Your sudden softening towards me, after the war. You've always claimed to despise me, Severus, after... well, everything. Our childhood. My lycanthropy. My friendship with Sirius. You outted me to the entire Wizarding world as a werewolf, remember? Then suddenly you were no longer objecting to my employment here, playing chess with me, even... well, you kissed me, if you recall. And I have never really understood why. Even though I was happy about it, I suppose that there was always a small part of me wondering what the catch was, when after so many years I finally seemed to be getting close to you, just as I had always wanted to do." Remus took a deep breath, deciding to take a gamble. "It seemed to good to be true, Severus. The thought that you could... you might... have... well, feelings for me. No doubt I've ruined everything, and I am so very, very sorry."

Severus glanced at where Remus' hand rested on his arm, and to Remus' surprise Severus didn't brush it off angrily. Finally dark eyes moved up to gaze at Remus, gazing through him, and Remus opened to that searching glance, hiding nothing. Not his regret, not his pain, not even his feelings and desires. It was a gamble, and Severus might laugh at him, but it was a risk he had to take.

Surprisingly to Remus, Severus didn't laugh.

Instead he nodded slowly. "I suppose I can forgive you for doubting me," Severus replied gruffly. "This once. There are special circumstances involved."

Remus almost sagged in relief as Severus - for the first time that Remus could ever remember - actually uttered words of forgiveness to him. But then he inclined his head, looking at Severus in curiosity. "Special circumstances? What might those be."

One black brow arched, and Severus' expression became intense. "Are you quite prepared to find out? If so, follow me."

With no further explanation Severus turned from the fireplace, striding quickly across the room to where a massive cabinet stood. Remus followed, then watched as Severus drew his wand and unlocked the cabinet. The doors opened, and Severus reached inside, carefully withdrawing a large bowl holding a scintillating pool of light.

A pensieve.

Crossing to the low table in front of his sofa, Severus placed the bowl upon it, then turned to face Remus. "Your memory is in there. I took it from Longbottom before they hauled him away. I believe you will find the last of your answers within it - both why Longbottom decided to keep the memory from you, and.... why my opinion of you changed."

Nodding, Remus moved toward Severus, drawing his wand with a not quite steady hand. He was no longer afraid to see what was within, now he had to see it, had to know what had happened. Placing his wand against the whirling fog within the pensieve, Remus summoned forth his memory. Several gossamer strands wove themselves to the tip of his wand. Taking a deep breath and holding Severus' gaze, Remus lifted his wand to his temple, and the silver-swirl of memories followed, absorbing back into him as though more than eager to return. Instantly Remus as assaulted by the sounds and images of battle, lent the crystalline sharpness of immediacy as they reassimilated themselves into his mind. 

 

People running, screaming, hexes flying. He stood just behind Harry, and the two of them moved toward a figure who stood apart on the crest of a hill, a horrid smile on the lipless slash of his mouth, red eyes burning as he waited for Harry to come to him, to fulfill both their destinies.

"Go, Remus," Harry said, lifting his wand to cast a shield spell against a hex directed toward them. "I have to do this alone!"

"Says who?" Remus asked, firing a spell off to one side, watching dispassionately as the recipient fell motionless to the ground.

"I say," Harry ground out. "Go on, I can handle this!" 

"Like hell I will! I will not let your parents and Sirius down by abandoning you! Yes, you have to fight him, that's in the prophecy. But I'll be damned if I won't do everything I can to help!"

They advanced up the hill, curses and counter-curses flying. More bodies fell before both Remus' wand and Harry's, casualties that could not be counted in the heat of battle. Remus had one purpose, and one purpose only - to protect Harry, even if it cost him his own life.

"Well, Harry," Voldemort said, staring down at his young nemesis with his wand drawn. "I believe it is time. Shall we begin?"

With courage that gave Remus a fierce stab of joy and hope, Harry's eyes narrowed, and he ran the rest of the way up the hill, closing the gap between he and Voldemort. "Yes, lets," he told the Dark Lord. "I don't want to be late for dinner."

As the two fated wizards faced each other, wands raised, there seemed to be a pause in the battle. Red light flashed from Harry's wand, to be met by green light from Voldemort's. The lights met, and clashed in a flash of golden sparks and incandescent white, strengthening unbearably with each heartbeat. The light grew and grew, beginning to form a sphere around the combatants, and...

And Remus forced his gaze from it, mesmerizing as the sight was. He had to be alert for danger, had to guard Harry. It was, at this moment, all that he could do.

Wand raised, Remus fended off several hexes flung in their direction, guarding Harry's back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Severus advancing up the hill as well, still clad in Death Eater robes from his summons to the Dark Lord prior to the battle. Severus was hurling hexes as well, and Remus turned away, glancing in the opposite direction. 

Just beyond Voldemort, Remus saw Lucius Malfoy - bedraggled, bleeding, but still wearing a smugly satisfied smile - reach the top of the hill. The blond's eyes were on the action between Harry and Voldemort, and Remus, distracted by the sight, had to move fast to deflect a curse hurled at him by a Death Eater just behind Lucius. He lobbed off a counter-curse that send the man screaming, rolling down the hill clutching his eyes.

Things seemed to go into slow motion then. Remus glanced up, seeing that the sphere of light was almost complete around Harry and Voldemort. Then to one side, as Severus gained the top of the hill not far from him, the Potions Master giving Remus a slight nod of acknowledgment. Behind Voldemort again, where Lucius had stopped smiling, having noticed Severus. To the other side, where a fully robed and masked Death Eater stood watching the combat. Back to Malfoy, who was raising his wand, bringing it up to point at Severus. To Severus, who was deflecting a curse from another direction. Back to the masked Death Eater, who was raising his wand toward Harry.

The sphere was not quite complete, and Harry, focussed on Voldemort, was still vulnerable. If the sphere did not close before the Death Eater threw his spell, Harry might die... and the Wizarding world would fall. But there was Malfoy, facing Severus, the spell already forming on Lucius' lips. Remus could see it, could read the syllables in Lucius' eyes by the way they glinted victoriously. It would be the Killing Curse.

In that split second Remus had to make a decision, between defending Harry and saving Severus. He could not do both, and if he hesitated he might lose them both. 

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, Remus made his decision.

"Avada Kedavra!" he cried out, pointing his wand at Lucius, as Severus whirled around in shock. Malfoy froze as the green fire enveloped him, wand still pointed at Severus, before he crumpled lifeless to the ground.

Remus didn't even stop to watch Lucius fall, whirling back just in time to see the sphere close around Harry, the Death Eater's curse splashing harmlessly off the impenetrable barrier surrounding Harry and the Dark Lord. Drawing in a shuddering breath of relief, Remus fired a curse at the Death Eater, watching the masked form fall.

Turning once again, Remus saw Severus standing still, staring. Not at the battle that was raging within the sphere just beyond Remus, but at Remus himself. Severus didn't speak, but his dark gaze burned into Remus, an unspoken question in their depths that held Remus utterly still, frozen in place. Remus didn't have to be a Legilimens to read that question.

Why?

Remus wasn't certain if he actually spoke the words, but it didn't matter. Severus was more than talented enough to read them in his eyes.

Because I don't care to live in a world without you in it.

Behind Remus there was a sound like a crack of thunder, a flash like lightning, and he whirled, eyes wide, to see two bodies fall to the ground from where the sphere had suddenly disappeared. Remus ran over, heart in his throat, hearing Severus right behind him. He stared at the bodies, feeling a great surge of emotion rising in his chest. One was burned beyond recognition, crumbling into dust there on the deep green of the summer grass... the other, however, opened eyes of that selfsame color, and looked at Remus with confusion that turned quickly into a widening, happy smile. Harry's scar was gone.

The war was over.

 

Remus came out of the memory, gasping in reaction at the way the emotions of that moment were brought back to him so intensely. The thrill of knowing the war was over. The fear and denial he had felt at the thought of Severus dying. The sadness for the people he had had to kill, the concern that now, having killed, that he would be the monster he had always feared, deep inside, that he might really be. 

The shame of knowing that, when it really mattered, his first thought had been to save Severus, even if it meant the loss of Harry and their entire world.

"Merlin..." Remus whispered, staggering, hands going to his own head. This was why he had blocked the memory out, knowing that his selfishness could have given Voldemort the victory. Could have cost Harry, dear Harry, his very life. It had all turned out fine, in the end... but what if it hadn't? What if his decision, his self-serving, instinctive, undeniable decision had cost them all everything they had been fighting for?

There were hands on Remus' arms, pushing him down onto the sofa, then an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Remus drew in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm his thundering heart, leaning into Severus' embrace, instinctively seeking the comfort being offered.

"Longbottom went mad not only from having to assimilate your memory, but from what that memory contained," Severus said quietly, deep voice pitched low and sounding surprisingly soothing. "I believe he took it at first out of jealousy when you told him you had let me see the memory, but no one else. Then when he realized what your memory showed about your... feelings..."

Remus didn't reply, he couldn't. Severus knew everything, and Severus hadn't pushed him away. Now Remus knew why he really hadn't wanted to remember the final battle. Why he had fled the Wizarding world for an entire year, not speaking to anyone, even Harry. He had been running from his guilt, running from the pain. Running from the realization that his feelings for Severus had been completely and totally exposed -- and that those feelings might have brought untold grief on the rest of the world. It was no easier knowing now, in retrospect, that Remus would make the same choice again, if he must.

Severus didn't seem to expect any reply. He merely continued to hold Remus quietly. After a few moments he spoke again. "In answer to your second question... well, that should be obvious as well. Not only did you save my life, you did so even at the foolish risk of everything that we all had been trying to achieve. I was angry at you for a quite long time, I have to tell you. Angry that with so much at stake you chose my life over defending Potter. It was a bloody foolish thing to do, you know. It could have been the end of us all." 

The chastising words were delivered in a surprisingly gentle tone, which helped to soothe Remus' inner ache. "Yes, I know," Remus murmured, finally finding his voice. "Believe me, I know."

"Still," Severus said, glancing down at Remus with a sober expression, "even I could not stay angry forever when faced with the evidence of what you had done for me. And why. But it was the realization that if Draco could put aside his animosity for Potter, perhaps there was..." Severus paused, then scowled as though he found the word offensive. "Hope."

Remus raised his head, amber eyes searching Severus' face as the very feeling Severus had just named seemed to take wing within him. "Hope, Severus? Hope for you? Or hope for..."

"Yes, yes. For us, Lupin. Of course you would make me say it," Severus replied. There was still a frown line between the dark eyes, but it seemed to Remus that the corners of Severus' thin lips twitched slightly. "I thought that after you returned to the school there might be some merit in exploring the... possibilities, shall we say. I did tell Albus that I was prepared to make the Wolfsbane potion for you, and that I had no objections to your return, purely on the basis of you being at least minimally competent at teaching. He smiled quite smugly at that, and I have no doubt the old fake knew the direction of my thoughts." Severus paused, giving Remus a look of very tried patience. "And I feel that I must register a complaint about how much time your annoying self has occupied my thoughts as of late. It is very distracting. Especially since I thought that Potter was the only person still living who could annoy me without even being present in the room."

The hope within Remus' chest turned into a warmth that coiled pleasantly in his stomach, as well as a tingle which travelled to far more interesting portions of his body. Given the way Severus was, the words that Severus had just spoken were as clear a declaration of intent as Remus could ever imagine the dour Potions Master uttering. Severus was attracted to him. Severus wanted to 'explore the possibilities'.

So did Remus -- and Remus was prepared to work damned hard to make certain those explorations were quite satisfactory for both of them.

"Well, I think that I can make the annoyance up to you," Remus murmured, smiling and looking up at Severus with contrived coyness through his lashes. "If you are interested in exploring that particular possibility."

One of Severus' brows rose, but Remus saw the flash of heat in Severus' eyes. "I find myself intrigued, Lupin. How do you suggest that we proceed?"

Pulling away from Severus, Remus rose to his feet and offered Severus his hand. "First, I suggest that you show me your bedroom. Then I will show you some of the things I have dreamed about doing to you for many, many years. Like stripping you naked and licking you from head to toe, or perhaps not touching you at all, other than to use my mouth on one very, very sensitive area until you are screaming for release. By then perhaps you will have a few suggestions of your own." Remus smiled seductively, hoping that would get a response.

It did.

Flowing to his feet, Severus took Remus' hand, before turning and pulling Remus in the direction of what Remus assumed was the bedroom, and did, in fact, turn out to be. Remus only had a moment to register the impression of more dark wood and a very large bed, before he way suddenly being pressed back against the door, Severus' hands cradling his head as Severus' lips claimed his mouth deeply and hungrily. 

It seemed that Severus already had a few suggestions, not that Remus minded one bit. With a moan he opened his mouth to the insistent press of Severus' tongue, responding eagerly to the kiss, deepening it and twining his tongue with Severus'. He loved how Severus tasted, loved the feel of Severus pressed against him, feeling the hardening evidence of Severus' desire. 

Placing his hands on Severus' hips, Remus pulled their bodies into alignment, so that Severus could tell just how much Remus was enjoying the kiss. Severus obviously noticed, if the groan that he breathed into Remus' mouth was any indication.

Kiss flowed into kiss, first languidly, then urgently, tongues sliding and exploring until both of them were gasping, flushed and breathless. They moved restlessly against each other, straining, seeking friction, and Remus drew back just enough that he could stare up at Severus with eyes dark with passion. 

"I want you, Severus," he murmured, hands going to the buttons of Severus' shirt, opening one. Remus leaned forward, pressing his lips to the skin revealed. Severus drew in a hissing breath, staring down at Remus.

"Do you?" he drawled, hands combing through Remus' hair, sifting the strands and letting them fall in wild disarray around Remus' face. Severus seemed pleased with his handiwork, and his hands dropped to the hem of Remus' jumper, tugging it up so that he could splay his fingers on the skin of Remus' abdomen. Leaning close, Severus flicked his tongue over the sensitive flesh of Remus' ear. "Then finish what you started, Lupin. Then perhaps you can have what you want."

Remus smiled, then set to with a will, undoing each button on Severus' shirt, kissing each inch of exposed flesh, delighting in the feel of Severus' warm skin trembling in anticipation beneath his lips. When the last button was undone, Remus couldn't resist delving his tongue into the indentation of Severus' navel, flicking it suggestively in and out until Severus hissed, hands fisting in Remus' hair, lifting Remus' head until Severus' could claim that wayward tongue in a hard, demanding kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Severus stared down at Remus, eyes smoldering. Severus pushed his now-unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, then unceremoniously pulled Remus' jumper over his head, leaving them both standing bare-chested, gazing at each other. 

Remus had scars across his chest, where claws had torn and jaws had ripped his flesh beginning at a very tender age. It was in stark contrast to the pale, smooth, unblemished skin of Severus' body, but the desire in Severus' eyes made him feel less self-conscious about his marks. Particularly when Severus reached out a hand, tracing over the raised ridges of hardened skin with one sensitive finger. 

Remus shivered beneath the touch, as Severus mapped out every line, brushed with seeming reverence over every inch, following the path of his finger with eyes narrowed in concentration. From time to time Remus would gasp as that delicate touch moved over vulnerable areas, causing the coil of desire in his gut to wind tighter with each stroke. Remus felt like every inch of his skin was humming, almost electrified from the sensation, and as he began to pant with desire he wondered how much more he could stand before melting into a puddle of pure, aching need.

Then Severus bent slightly, mouth pressing against one of Remus' nipples, suckling greedily at the raised nub of sensitive flesh. Remus' gasp was followed by a completely incoherent groan, and Remus' hands flew up to cradle Severus' head, holding it in place as though afraid Severus would stop.

"God, Severus!" Remus muttered. He moaned with loss when Severus moved, lifting his mouth, but Severus immediately moved to the other nipple, gifting it with the same attention he had given its twin. Remus had no complaints, at least until he felt himself beginning to slide down the door, his knees buckling from the overload of sensation.

Hands were at Remus' waist, holding him up as Severus lifted his head, smirking down at Remus. Severus' normally thin lips were moist, red, and swollen, and a sudden, possessive growl rose in Remus' throat at the sight. He wanted Severus, and wanted him now. Right now.

All weakness was forgotten as Remus grasped Severus' shoulders, propelling Severus back toward the bed, pushing him back upon it and following him down. Severus groaned as Remus landed on top of him, but it wasn't a sound of discomfort, because his hands came up to fasten on Remus' waist, before Severus arched his body, grinding their hips together until they both moaned.

Remus captured Severus' lips in a searing kiss, as their hands moved at the same time to unbuckle and unfasten and undo, shoes thudding to the floor and the rest of their clothes following quickly. Remus sucked in a deep breath, gazing hungrily at Severus' body. To Remus' eyes, which had longed to see the sight for so many years, Severus was perfect, slender and strong and undeniably male. Remus' hands caressed over Severus' skin, and he caught Severus' gaze, giving a feral, satisfied smile.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before leaning down, pressing his mouth to the sensitive flesh of Severus' neck. He bit down hard enough to mark the skin, then licked up the pale column, reveling in the taste of Severus on his tongue.

"Hardly," Severus denied, but he groaned when Remus bit down, hands clenching hard on the flesh of Remus' waist.

Suddenly Remus found the tables turned, as Severus rolled them over. Not that he had any objection at all to the abrupt change in position, and he arched wantonly beneath Severus, growling in satisfaction at the feeling of Severus' body, Severus' desire, pressing down onto him.

"Yes," Remus said, feeling on the brink of imminent combustion, which he would experience if they weren't joined very soon. "Beautiful. Incredible. Oh, God... Please, Severus..."

The sound of a drawer opening, then the sensation of warm-slick-full-deep, and Remus gasped, eyes flying open to stare up at Severus, avidly drinking in every detail, every nuance of that moment of fusion between them. Severus was staring back intently, with so much emotion on his flushed, damp face that Remus felt almost completely overwhelmed by the expression of combined love, lust, and longing that so perfectly matched his own. Wrapping his legs around Severus, he cried out, urging Severus on with hands and lips and teeth and tongue, touching every part of Severus' body he could reach, utterly consumed by the sheer perfection of the experience, the pleasure and the power and the joy of every single moment. 

Remus wanted it to go on and on, never wanting to lose that magnificent sense of connection he felt with Severus in their union, but the physical sensations were too intense, too overpowering to be denied. His body was pushed to the edge of ecstasy and then over, it as he gasped out Severus' name, head thrown back in complete abandonment to the sensations he was experiencing. Uncontrollable pleasure poured over him in a searing wave, causing his back to arch and his hands to grasp on Severus shoulders, holding on to the one solid object in his suddenly shattering universe. 

His own name was given back to him in a hoarse cry as Severus stilled above him, and Remus gazed up avidly, amber eyes feasting on the look of fierce joy on Severus' face. Their gazes met and locked then, and for what could have been a moment or an hour they looked into each other, sharing a communion more deep and perfect than anything Remus could ever have dreamed of. Staring into Severus' eyes, Remus felt that he had, at long last, found the other half of his soul.

Then it was over, and Severus sank down to one side, pulling Remus into his arms and holding him tightly against his chest. Remus wrapped his arms around Severus, hands stroking in awe over pale, damp skin, his nose drinking in the scent of it, tongue flicking out to taste the heady mixture of passion-sweat and Severus. His own heartbeat gradually slowed, and Remus listened to the sound of Severus' beneath his cheek, thudding in counterpoint.

Remus felt a kiss upon his brow, and he raised his head to gift Severus with a languid, sated smile. Leaning down, he pressed his lips gently, tenderly against Severus', a silent thanks that was received and returned in kind. Then Remus settled back down, content, filled with a peace he hadn't experienced in... well, possibly ever. But was a feeling he had every intention of getting quite used to.

Severus' hand caressed his back, and Remus' eyes grew heavy. They still had more talking to do, more things to work out, and no doubt more explanations were in store -- especially once Harry and Draco found out. But for now everything was perfect and magical in a way that had nothing to do with wizardry and everything to do with the wizard in his arms. 

The moon had risen, and it peeked over the edge of the clerestory windows set high in the wall, falling over their entwined limbs in a spill of silver that did not burn. Looking up at the great, glowing orb, Remus smiled, for once completely unafraid to stare Her in the face. There were still circles which ruled his life, and they might always do so... but right now, at last, the circle he longed for most was finally and joyfully complete.


End file.
